


And Brought Her to Mayhem.

by sophluorescent



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cults, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Attempted Murder, Blood Ritual, Consensual Infidelity, Demon Summoning, Demonic Possession, EXO Big Bang Round 1, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femslash, Internalized Homophobia, Kidnapping, Marriage of Convenience, Murder, Ritualistic Self-Harm, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 52,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophluorescent/pseuds/sophluorescent
Summary: On camera, Baekhyun is sparkling, glamorous, glitzy—off camera, she’s got a dazzling smile as red as blood.Written for the EXO Big Bang Event.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 16
Kudos: 46
Collections: EXO Big Bang Writing Event





	1. Prior to Reading [Note]

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **EXO BigBang 2019-20!** Wow… what a ride this was. I wasn’t quite sure if this was going to be the fic I stuck with to the end (and I definitely had a couple of months where I did change to another WIP), but I’m actually really glad to have finally finished this one up. It was a challenge, but, a welcome challenge.
> 
> Please make sure you read the warnings! The first chapter goes over a little ‘prior to reading’ note that explains some of the more ambiguous tags, but all in all, most of the tags are self-explanatory. If you think I need to add a tag/warning, let me know, I’ll be happy to do so. I'd love to give a thank you to my beta, X, you helped me so much with the first two-thirds of this monster :') 
> 
> Anyways, as always, I hope you enjoy reading. And if you do enjoy, please do let me know via comments or kudos. I love to hear what you think.
> 
> 08/16/20: Will be editing once I have time, read at your own risk LOL! I love this fic but I really want to make it... better.

Before reading, you may find the following information helpful! You can skip this note and head on to the first chapter if you would like, but there are no important plot spoilers below, so you don’t really lose anything by going through it! 

Firstly, the following characters have been gender-bent: Minseok, Baekhyun, Jongdae, Sehun, Yixing. The remaining EXO members are male. Additionally, other idols do make appearances in the story, typically only by name or association. As always, my work of fiction does not pretend to nor attempt to accurately reflect aspects of these idols’ lives, and as such I don't intend for my work to erase any of the members' individual gender identities.

Secondly, there are a couple warnings that may be a little squeaky for people and are a little ambiguous, so I wanted to go ahead and explain what I mean for them. 

I used the Consensual Infidelity tag because in this story, Baekhyun and Yifan marry out of convenience. Both of them are very good friends, but Yifan is also gay (though Baekhyun’s bisexual), and so they want to seek out people that actually compliment their interests. They’re upfront about all of their flings and communicate a lot, if you were worried!

Then, the Ritualistic Self Harm tag refers to drawing blood for the rituals and summonings the cult partakes in. It’s not meant to glorify suicidal tendencies! That being said, I am graphic about how they draw blood, so if that’s something that will trigger you, I recommend you pass on this one!


	2. Method

“You’re late!” 

Minseok hurries along, unstopping, heels clicking against the floor in rapid succession. Her boss falls into step beside her, his presence an overbearing cloud, his mouth running a mile a minute.

“This is the third time you’ve come in late in the last two weeks. You don’t even have the excuse of working on something into the wee hours of the morning because you have produced _nothing_. I mean nothing, nil, zero, _zilch_!” He hisses. His fingers make a big, glaring ‘0.’ Minseok averts her gaze, struggling not to cry under the barrage, shame prickling uncomfortably under her skin.

“I understand, sir. I apologize,” she says quietly, pushing open the door to the office she shares with Kyungsoo. The man looks up as she enters, nodding minutely, then graciously looks away as Junmyeon follows her inside.

His tirade doesn’t stop, though it _does_ soften in its intensity. Junmyeon is a good guy. He tries to be as lenient with Minseok as possible, and she does appreciate that. But, the barrage still stings. “You’re not producing quality work, Minseok. Your stories are lackluster, you’re late to work… how am I supposed to keep you on my payroll when everyone else is doing more work than you, sometimes for less?” He continues.

“You’re not!” She snaps, setting her purse down on the floor and computer bag on her desk. She turns to face him. “If you need to fire me, you may. Being late is another issue altogether, but you can’t blame me that my stories are dry. There’s nothing _new_ happening!” She flips open a binder laying on her desk. A few photographs taken courtesy of the paparazzi are stuffed in one of the pockets. On the front page, there are a few headline drafts. 

She points at all of them, continuing, “It’s all the usual gossip. She’s dating him, he’s fucking her, they’re divorcing; _nothing_ is new!” She flips through all of the photographs in front of him, only barely containing her anger, her frustration. All of the photos are grainy and blurred. There is no artistry. “What is there for me to report on that isn’t just the same old story?”

“There _is_ Kris Wu’s wife,” Kyungsoo comments mildly. He spins around in his desk chair.

“Don’t get her started on that, Kyungsoo.”

“What?” 

Junmyeon pinches the bridge of his nose, knowing he’s already lost now that Minseok’s curiosity is piqued. 

“Kris Wu, he’s the CEO of that one luxury brand, _Antares_ ,” Kyungsoo explains. Minseok knows the brand. She’s reported on events he’s been at in the past though she hasn’t ever met him in person. He’s tall, sharp, and intimidating. 

She remembers _him_ now, but, “His wife?” she does not recognize. She’s not even sure if she knew he was married. Though that’s understandable since he’s not really on her radar, even if she _is_ an entertainment reporter.

“Byun Baekhyun, the actress,” Junmyeon supplies. 

_Oh._ Minseok _does_ know of her. She’s been Minseok’s high-school crush since she first appeared in _Girl Crush_. She’s never had any actual interactions with the actress, but her face is easy to recall.

“But, Kyungsoo, you don’t _really_ subscribe to the rumors about her, do you?” Junmyeon continues, sounding annoyed.

Kyungsoo snorts, “I don’t ‘subscribe’ to anything. I’m just saying it’s making its rounds again.”

Minseok is enraptured. “What is it about her that’s making the rounds?” She asks curiously.

“There’s a nasty little rumor that Baekhyun has more violent proclivities than are legal,” Junmyeon says, leaning back on Minseok’s desk as she takes a seat in her chair. 

“Of the cultist degree,” Kyungsoo adds helpfully. 

Junmyeon shoots him a glaring look. “Young, upcoming stars disappearing shortly after joining Baekhyun’s circle. A few vaguely incriminating interviews,” he sighs. “A few years ago a tabloid attempted to run an exposé on her. It got buried shortly after release, but  would have  flopped anyways because it didn’t have any credible proof outside of mere conspiracies.”

Minseok’s not exactly sure what she had expected to hear, but this isn’t quite it. Still, it’s _something_ _—_ if a little shocking and macabre _._ Regardless, if the rumors crop up every few years, there must be a reason. There must be _some_ credibility. It may simply end up that the actress is having an affair—causing her behavior change—or some other mundane explanation. But… she could  also  actually _be_ a cultist. Either way, the story has already captured Minseok, her mind racing a mile a minute.

“I want to break that story,” she says, “I want to investigate it.” She turns to look up at her boss, her eyes glimmering and pleading. He stares at her for a minute, then sighs. She knows she’s won. 

He leans back against her desk, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I can make it so that you can complete other articles remotely while you ‘investigate’—meaning I still expect to have you submitting work, but I can give you more time to work on this project. If you _can_ reveal something, it’ll be worth it. However, if nothing can be proven, this is the last project I’ll be giving you Ms. Kim. You have a month to get me _something._ ”

Minseok raises a finger to protest, “I can’t write an exposé in a month!”

“I said to show me something. I don’t care if it’s just a recount of something she or one of her friends said. Something that will convince me you’re not following a red herring and that it’s worth my time to keep you on my payroll another couple of months.”

At that, Minseok nods. She can do that—probably. Junmyeon nods then and excuses himself, leaving the office. Minseok sinks fully into her chair then spins around to face Kyungsoo. “So, how come you know so much about this rumor?”

Kyungsoo hums, “I know the person who originally tried to break the story. I… know what it sounds like when someone is convinced of something and… well, they were convinced.” He turns around to face her, wringing his hands together somewhat nervously. 

“Besides, I’ve met Sehun, the model Jongin’s friends with. And… I’d believe it if you told me she was in Baekhyun’s cult. There’s an energy around people like that. They’re intimidating in a dangerous sort of manner. And like you said, rarely does a completely baseless rumor come about. There’s something there that prompted this kind of talk.”

Minseok nods, understanding, “Do you know where I can find the original article? It might be worth reading as a starting point.” 

Kyungsoo nods, says he’ll email her the link. She grins and turns around, opening her laptop and logging in. 

Kyungsoo finds the article in five minutes and sends it her way. Her cursor hovers over the link. She’s hesitant, doesn’t know if she wants to open this can of worms.

Then, she thinks of her mother and how she’d like to see Minseok find some recognition for her work. She’d be proud if Minseok brought this story to light. _Assuming it is true,_ Minseok thinks belatedly.  Also, she enjoys having a job to pay the bills. 

She opens the link.

> **November 20, 2013** by **Park Yoora**
> 
> Violent rumors have been circulating since the beginning of the year involving Korea’s favorite actress, **Byun Baekhyun.** Accusations began after the sudden disappearance of young, up and coming actress **Ji Hyeran** shortly after she was photographed with Ms. Byun’s clique. Ji’s mother claims that her daughter had become close to the older actress, and that she had planned for an uncharacteristic break shortly before her disappearance. Ms. Ji is convinced that Byun has something to do with her daughter’s sudden vanishing.
> 
> Moreover , Ji is not the  first disappearance that Byun Baekhyun has been linked to—if only nominally—but the  fourth . Three other rising stars have also gone missing shortly after being photographed  with  and/or mentioning their relationship with the actress. **Kang Iseul, Park Jiwoo,** and **Kim Sooyoung** have also disappeared in mysterious circumstances. 
> 
> A fourth star, **Kim Jungah,** was recovered eight months after her disappearance in a shallow grave. This marked the beginning of our investigation into Ms. Byun—Kim’s body revealed many defensive wounds, burn wounds, and bruising characteristic of restraints. Not only that, but clutched in her fingers was a ring. Eight months prior to the grave’s finding, Ms. Byun was in tabloids for rumors that she was divorcing her husband, Chinese designer **Kris Wu** , because of the sudden disappearance of her wedding ring. 
> 
> Her agency eventually quelled the rumors, citing that their client had lost her ring down a drain and was photographed shortly before having it replaced. However, when details of Kim Jungah’s grave revealed the expensive ring, again Ms. Byun was put into the spotlight. We contacted the original investigators on the scene of Ms. Kim’s recovery for photographs of the ring, but have been told the file was lost in a small fire last year. 
> 
> Though we cannot prove Ms. Byun’s ring is the one found with Kim Jungah’s body, it seems more than a coincidence. 

“This is… a lot of speculation, but like—” She trails off, scanning what she’s read already of the article. “I can see why someone might think it’s a bit fishy?” Kyungsoo hums in agreement from his desk and Minseok returns to the article.

> In addition to the speculation of Byun’s ring being that at the grave, there have also been theories crafted about Ms. Byun’s tattoos. Though all of her ink is well-covered, fans have caught snapshots of her body art, and co-stars have mentioned the ink in interviews. From these accounts, it can be surmised that Ms. Byun has iconography of a goat’s skull at the centre of her back and the phases of the moon tattooed up her spine. Pagan religions often employ symbolism found in the goat and the moon, further suggesting that Ms. Byun has something to hide of the occult-extent. 
> 
> Still, there is more. In an interview made earlier this year, Ms. Byun was questioned about her faith, seeing as she has a habit of decorating herself with Catholic images such as the crucifix and rosaries—often thought to be a sacrilegious practice. In fact, in one of her photoshoot concepts just the year before, Ms. Byun was decorated with the _Stigmata_ in addition to imagery associated with the Catholic Virgin Mary. In response to the question, Ms. Byun stated that “we all have our vices. If God wishes to judge me, he may do so on Judgement Day. Though, if my prayers are sound, I will never stand before him—in any case, my faith should not concern my critics” (Modelpress). 
> 
> In an interview shortly afterwords, Byun mentioned her faith again stating that, “[she had] grown away from [her] roots. [She’s] not sure if the dogma of the Church is one that [she] can resolve to follow” (Allure). 
> 
> So, when put together as a whole, Byun Baekhyun has multiple links that suggest she is not only pagan, but  also  that she entertains the violent side of the occult. We cannot prove for certain that Ms. Byun is a practitioner of the occult, nor that she has an involvement in the disappearances of her acquaintances. At base, we can only suggest that Ms. Byun isn’t all that she appears to be and suggest a closer investigation into her.

The article goes on to discuss a few more topics, but Minseok’s sure she’s covered the basics of the rumors. “All right, so the gist is that Baekhyun’s some kind of cultist that ritually sacrifices young, beautiful talents?”

“It would appear that’s the case,” Kyungsoo agrees. 

Minseok hums, clicking off of the article and instead pulling up some other interviews from the actress. She works on learning more about Baekhyun as the day progresses, scanning through fan forums and Twitter simultaneously. There are a few reoccurring names. Kris Wu, of course, but also the names of the various elite thought to be in Baekhyun’s clique of friends.

There are the idols Park Sooyoung, Bae Irene, and Kang Seulgi, and then there is the model Oh Sehun. Then, she finds a photo depicting Baekhyun with three of her friends, business woman and fashion-collector Zhang Yixing, actor and singer Huang Zitao, and singer and model Lu Han. 

“Zhang has rumors of her own. She was recently implicated in the death of a priest back in her hometown,” Kyungsoo says, making Minseok jump. 

She sucks in a breath and calms her racing heart, finally processing what Kyungsoo had just said. “Oh?” She looks back at the photo, “but this is from this year?”

“The Zhangs are very wealthy,  and  very well-connected. She was never found guilty, even though the trial seemed like it would lead to that,” Kyungsoo supplies. “Look, if you’re really going to dive deep into this, Minseok, you need to understand that these people have the wealth to cover up _everything_. If the cult theory is true, you need to be careful.” 

Minseok’s never seen Kyungsoo look so concerned before, but here he is, eyes wide and mouth set in a hard line. Minseok nods, “I promise I’ll be careful, Soo. I’m not dumb,” she says. 

He nods. He’s got a healthy respect for her, he knows she’s not a fool.“No, but you can be naïve.” He sighs. “I think if anyone’s going to uncover the bottom of this, it’s you, whether it turns out she’s actually evil or everything’s just a coincidence. Hell, she could be into the occult without being evil. Just… be careful. ” 

Minseok smiles at that, brushing a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “Thanks, Soo. I won’t let you down!” 

He rolls his eyes, but cracks a smile at the same time, turning back to his work while Minseok turns back to hers. 

She needs to figure out a way to meet Baekhyun _or_ one of her friends. She’s glad to see that she hasn’t ever interviewed anyone in Baekhyun’s friend group. Her only concern are the few events she’d attended as a reporter that she knows Kris Wu was also at. But, she is positive that she never interacted with the designer face to face, so she doesn’t count it a huge concern of hers. It’s unlikely he’ll remember her even if they do end up meeting while Minseok is “undercover.”

She’s in the middle of brainstorming various ideas as to how she’ll come into contact with one of Baekhyun’s clique without using her career as a route to do so—no one is ever going to open up to someone wearing a press badge at an event—when there’s a soft knock on the door. A beat after the knock, the door clicks open and Jongin’s pretty face appears from behind it. “Hey guys,” he greets, letting himself into the office and closing the door behind him. He perches himself on the edge of Kyungsoo’s desk. 

The scent of Starbucks coffee and pastries wafts through the room. Minseok’s mouth waters. 

“I brought you a latte,” Jongin says to her, holding out the drink. Minseok takes it gratefully as Jongin plucks a pastry bag from where he’d stuffed it in the drink holder, “and a croissant,” he finishes. She takes that too and places it on her desk. “It’s not really lunch food, but I was  over there  editing  anyways , so I figure I may as well just grab you guys something and head over before I went shopping.”

“Shopping for what?” Kyungsoo questions after taking a sip of his coffee.

“Sehun-ah has an event this coming Friday night. She told me I needed something nice to wear if I’m to get in.”

Minseok looks up the second Jongin mentions his friend’s name. Kyungsoo notices, eyes narrowing, “Minseok, that’s not a good idea,” he says preemptively.

“Are you talking about Oh Sehun the model, by any chance?” Minseok asks. Jongin’s an impressive photographer and she knows he’s photographed fashion shows before. There’s a chance that he _is_ talking about the young model given his credentials.

Jongin frowns, looking between the two of them, obviously trying to connect the dots between Kyungsoo’s statement and Minseok’s. “Yeah, uh—she and I went to school together. I did her resumé photos when she went to sign to  her first modeling agency,” he says. 

_Oh, wow._ That’s far more than Minseok was expecting. “Is there any chance I can come with you to the show?” she asks, forgetting that Jongin has no idea what her motivations are. 

He crosses his arms defensively. “Why the sudden interest?”

“ _Noona_ is trying to investigate Byun Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo explains. Jongin’s lips part in surprise, then he glances back at Minseok, expression thoughtful.

“So you’re trying to go through Sehun in order to get dirt on Baekhyun? Because I can tell you right now, Sehun’s loyal as a dog, she’s not going to tell you anything even if there is something to know,” Jongin says.

“That’s fine, really , I’m just looking to get introduced to people she might know in the industry. It makes my chances of meeting _her_ much larger, you know?” 

Jongin nods slowly, then, he shrugs, “I can take you with me. Sehun said I could bring a plus-one if I wanted. Do you have something to wear?”

She shakes her head. Other than her work clothes, most of her clothes have seen too much wear and tear to be appropriate for a fashion show. “That’s fine, do you want to come shopping with me then?” 

Minseok blinks, “Ah, I’m—I don’t know if I have the money to shop. I can call some friends though and see if they have anything I can borrow.”

“I’ll pay for you to get something nice,” Kyungsoo says simply, slipping his wallet out of his pocket. “I know you’re going through a lot right now,” he says as he passes his card to Jongin. 

She _is_ going through a lot at the moment, but that doesn’t mean she needs handouts. She opens her mouth to protest, but a look from Kyungsoo silences her. He looks completely genuine. She also knows this kindness doesn’t come with any ulterior motive. Kyungsoo’s pining after Jongin from what she can tell, so it’s not like he’s trying to woo her or anything.  They’re friends, she and Kyungsoo.

“Okay,” she says after a beat of silence. “Thank you, though. It really means a lot.”

She shoots Junmyeon an email that she has an ‘in’ already and then checks-out for the day, leaving in step with Jongin.

***

Minseok shoulders her purse then rifles through it for her keys once arriving home, shopping bag in hand. Eventually, she’s able to open her apartment, turning to wave to Jongin and let him know she’s inside safely. He flashes his headlights in acknowledgment, then pulls away from the curb. She pauses and watches his brake-lights join the sea of cars before turning and properly stepping inside her apartment.

Minseok changes quickly, undoing her hair from the strict bun she had knotted at the nape of her neck and letting it fall down to her shoulders. She tugs off her white blouse and replaces it with an old, wrinkled tee, then swaps her professional miniskirt for a much more comfortable pair of sweatpants. Finally, she fetches a worn book off of the table and leaves right back out the door, leaving her bags untouched for the time being. She doesn’t have a lot of time.

The way to the assisted living home is bustling with the evening rush. It’s so busy that Minseok’s both relaxed and simultaneously distressed by it. The degree of anonymity that it gives her is something that makes her breath come easily, but the pure density of people is enough to make her palms sweat and her knees shake. Behind the camera, or with the pen and paper in hand, she is able to dissociate from herself. She’s not Minseok, someone who could be judged, but instead, Ms. Kim, reporter and columnist. Without her camera in hand, she feels as if those on the train are watching her every move—judging every facet about her. 

So, she averts her gaze and waits for the train ride to be over, slipping onto the street once it is. She's lucky it’s still a little light outside; this particular area has never been safe after dark. Minseok would know from past experiences with one too many drunks. Her feet splash through the puddles along the sidewalk, the cold October wind pulling at her shirt, chilling her in a way that makes her regret not taking along a sweatshirt. 

In time, the assisted living home comes into view. It has a wrought iron fence that would be imposing if not for the vines and roses that wrap around the spires. The facility itself is tall, old, and Western in appearance. In other words, it is nice enough, but there is something to be said for the way it sucks the soul out of Minseok. Perhaps it is the white walling, the particular scent of the cleaning products they use on the carpets, maybe it is even the falsity of each worker’s smile. 

She feels pitied, not welcomed, but she knows that her mother is fond of this place; it has a chapel to suit her religious needs, and for her mother, Minseok knew that that particular perk was of the utmost importance.

_But_ the facility is expensive, and though some of the cost is being covered by her aunt, the rest of it falls to Minseok. She doesn't have the money to keep paying for her mother’s care. Especially not with her job on the line. But that’s a problem for another night. 

"Mom?" She greets, knocking on the door before opening it with a slow whoosh. She steps into the room and smiles. Her mother returns it in kind. 

Mrs. Kim was a severe woman when she worked, her face full of hard lines and absent of smiles, her hands worn with work, her feet broken and worn, but at home, she was a woman of cheery disposition. Her smiles seemed to make every welcome home that much better. It made the school-work feel lesser; it made Minseok feel capable of following her dreams. It’s the fact that her mother is her biggest supporter that has Minseok dispelling any thoughts of cancelling her mother’s stay. She can’t do that when her mother has broken her back all her life to take care of her.

Again, she thinks, she’ll just have to figure something out. Maybe her aunt could put up more money for her mother’s care. 

She shakes her head free of those thoughts, plastering a smile to her face as her mother reaches out for her hand. Minseok takes it, clutching onto it tightly. There’s a certain frailty to her digits—it’s hard for Minseok to reconcile this version of her mother with the one she knew growing up. 

"One of these days I expect you to bring a boy to come see me! I'm beginning to get worried." Her mother's laugh is so bright, for a moment Minseok just basks in it. In the next, she scoffing, promising that she'll find a man soon... except that she won't.

"Another day, Mom!" She chuckles, trying not to let the pang of guilt she feels show on her face. Her mother doesn’t need to know about Minseok’s personal preferences and Minseok is in no rush to break her heart. She changes the subject quickly, "I brought you a new book. Kyungsoo gave it to me. He said it's one of his father's favorites, so I'm sure you'll like it. Soo has good taste in books, so I imagine his father is the same.” 

Her mother accepts the book kindly, flipping through it slowly. "Old books are my favorite,” she comments, “with all the dog-eared pages and the coffee stains, you can tell they were well loved,” she continues, her eyes a little glassier than they had been moments before. Minseok lets her remain in her memories for a little longer before speaking again.

"I like them, too. They might not be the prettiest or most impressive at face value, but you can tell they're good books." 

Her mother hums in agreement, setting the book down and turning to gaze at Minseok. She can't help but feel small under her mother's gaze, under her accomplishments.

"Is there something wrong? You've been quieter today, Minnie,” her mother says in the pause that follows. She tucks a piece of Minseok's hair behind her ear, brushing along her cheek soothingly. 

Is there something wrong? _Yes_ , but Minseok can't just tell her that she may very well be losing her job. She can't tell her mother that she's gay. Can’t tell her mother that her condition’s worsening, that it seems Minseok has less and less time with her than she’d originally thought. She can't tell her mother that it's so bad that she's begun talking with her aunt about how to pay for the funeral.

It’s all too overwhelming and her mother doesn’t need that stress. So, she settles on shaking her head minutely. "Just stress, Mom. You know how it is with journalism. Never know what story's coming up and when." 

Her mother doesn't seem satisfied, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she points to the little stack of gossip magazines on her nightstand. "I read your most recent piece, it was very nice. I hope they won't divorce, they were such a pretty couple!” 

Minseok declines to mention that people can fall out of love, and instead continues listening. 

"Your writing is so good, I'm worried your employer's wasting your talents on these types of stories. You should go into real journalism."

"Mother, gossip columns are real journalism, regardless of your own opinions–"

"Nonsense! Imagine one of your stories in an actual newspaper. You could actually _help_ people with your journalism! That's how that one neighborhood got saved from demolition, some journalist submitted an editorial on it and brought in a whole bunch of young investors.” Her argument is nice, but it is something they had gone over many times before. 

Minseok likes writing entertainment columns. Perhaps it is a more personal dream of hers to excel and branch out into more artistic journalism, but her job is perfectly fine as it is now.

So, Minseok redirects the conversation again, moving it into calmer topics that they can agree on. They eventually put on a rom-com, sitting and watching together, laughing together, before the time comes for Minseok to leave. She kisses her mother goodbye and leaves the way she came, purse clutched in hand.

***

“Do you even know how you’re going to introduce yourself?” Jongin asks once she opens the door and plops into his passenger seat. Trash shifts beneath her feet, but she does her best not to squirm, plastering a smile to her face.

“I’m thinking I can be a novelist? I’m looking to get experience for my newest romance between a celebrity socialite and one of her fans?” she tries. Jongin nods, agreeing that her story will probably work. Besides, she’s always written her articles under a pseudonym, so she doesn’t even have to go “undercover.” If anyone does deign to look her up, they’ll find nothing about her or her career.

So really, she’s not too nervous about introducing herself. She’s more nervous about being in the company of people that are way out of her league, both financially and socially. There’s probably a certain way to act, to look, to socialize, and she’s not ready for any of it. Jongin must notice her anxiety because he places a hand on her knee soothingly. “I can hear you thinking, Min. I promise it’s not going to be too bad. Sehun will probably like you!” 

“Probably?”

“She’s kind of a brat at times, but hey, any friend of mine is a friend of hers,” Jongin clarifies.

Minseok stares at him, then rolls her eyes, huffing. “I’m just nervous. I mean, what if I give myself away before I even get started? I have a lot resting on this story!” she whines. 

Jongin tuts his tongue and pats her knee again. “I know you do, but I’m telling you, it’s going to be okay. Just act like yourself. Not like reporter-you, but like… the real you. _This_ you,” he says, motioning up and down Minseok’s body. 

She laughs at Jongin’s expression, glad to see how genuine he appears. He truly does seem to believe in her, that she can do this. 

The rest of the ride passes with meaningless chatter as they put on the latest hits and sing along in the car. Traffic isn’t too bad, but it does take them a lot longer than Minseok was expecting to make it to the venue. She’s glad they’ve arrived though—she doesn’t wear glamorous makeup often enough for it to feel comfortable. The sooner she gets this over with, the sooner she can go home and take everything off.

Her first thought upon entering is that this is really not her type of event. She watches a woman _decked_ in diamonds walk past and has to physically hold herself back from gaping. Jongin takes her hand and leads her away from the masses and towards the seating. They’re front row, at the end of the runway, courtesy of Sehun. Jongin also has his camera and lenses with him, which earns them a little more respect as they go to find their seats.

And from then on, it’s just waiting for the show to start, and then to finish. Sehun does well—Minseok is only familiar with the model from the pictures she’d found while researching Baekhyun, but she’s ten times more beautiful in person. Her skin is sharp, like it has been carved from stone, and her eyes are like knives—piercing and glinting in the show’s flashing lights. She’s dressed in a sleek black dress that sparkles with thousands of crystals, glinting like oil under the right lighting. 

In other words, Oh Sehun is a striking woman.

After the show, Minseok prepares herself to meet the woman face to face and to congratulate her on her appearance. She stands around chatting with Jongin, sipping a glass of champagne and continuing to feel as if she’s out of her element. Then she watches Jongin’s eyes widen and a smile carve itself onto his face. 

“Sehun!” he calls out. 

Minseok turns. The model looks up, eyes sharp, and locks her gaze to Jongin. Instantly, she begins to sift through the crowd in their direction.

But behind her, there’s someone infinitely more intimidating.

If Oh Sehun is ten times more beautiful in person than she is in photographs, Minseok’s not quite sure _how_ to quantify Byun Baekhyun’s beauty. She’s dressed in a simple pink dress. Like Sehun’s runway dress, it sparkles in the light. The shade compliments her golden skin, her blonde hair, her caramel brown eyes. Though she’s preceded by the star of the show, it’s Baekhyun that commands attention. There’s something about her confidence that Sehun bears similarity to, but hasn’t fully developed yet.

“Jongin!” Sehun greets, pulling the photographer into a hug, then pulling away, leaving one of her hands resting on his arm. 

Minseok raises an eyebrow. Jongin and Sehun are much closer than she originally presumed. 

“I’m glad you came, and you brought a friend?” Sehun turns to regard Minseok, who suddenly feels very small.

“Yeah! This is Minseok, she’s writing a novel,” Jongin introduces happily, giving away nothing about the lie. Minseok blushes when Sehun makes a noise of surprise, maybe even appreciation. 

“It’s nice to meet you Minseok,” Sehun says, bowing ever so slightly. 

Minseok returns her gesture, about to congratulate her on the show, when Sehun turns. 

“Anyways, it seems you’re not the only one who brought a friend. Jongin, Minseok, this is Baekhyun,” Sehun introduces, finally welcoming Baekhyun into their little circle.

Minseok thanks whatever god allowed the heavens to align for this meeting. “It’s a pleasure,” Baekhyun purrs in greeting, her voice dripping saccharine like honey. She bows politely to the both of them, then straightens up and zeroes in on Minseok. “I heard that you’re writing a novel?”

Minseok’s starstruck for a moment, but quickly clears her throat, “Uh—yeah, I am. It’s a romance,” she says, keeping details to a minimum.

Baekhyun’s not having it. “Oh? A romance between who? A model and her photographer? A celebrity and their manager? Maybe even between the designer and the makeup artist?” she theorizes. 

Minseok finds herself relaxing, laughing even, as Baekhyun rattles through her list. “A celebrity and her fan,” Minseok clarifies, “but I haven’t gotten very far in plotting. I’m still trying to find inspiration and really get a feel for the characters and their environments.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes glimmer curiously, but there isn’t anything inherently malicious about her. In fact, Minseok really hadn’t been thinking about her purpose for being at the show at all. Baekhyun’s _that_ nice. She’s engaging and talks to Minseok about literature—even though Minseok’s beginning to pull things out of her ass at this point, she’s not _actually_ a novelist, after all—and Minseok in turn redirects the conversation towards her thoughts about the fashion show. For a few minutes they share compliments about Sehun, enough that it has the tall, willowy model turning around and _blushing._

So, they switch topics again, Minseok mentioning that she’s a bit of a fan ever since she saw _Girl Crush._ Baekhyun laughs at that and asks her what her favorite scene was. Minseok begins to detail one of them—the scene at the drive-in theater—when Baekhyun suddenly straightens and looks down at her phone. She smiles apologetically, then excuses herself from the little circle, bringing the receiver up to her ear.

Minseok turns back to the the other two, giving Baekhyun her privacy.

“What are you doing for dinner?” Sehun asks Jongin. 

He shakes his head. “Don’t know yet, we might just pick up something fast since it’s so late,” he says. 

Then, Baekhyun’s placing a delicate hand against Sehun’s shoulder. “We can host them for dinner, if they would like. Yifan’s already cooking,” she invites. “I was expecting Yixing to come in, but her flight was delayed.”

Sehun claps her hands together and turns back to Jongin and Minseok, fluttering her eyelashes. “You in?” 

Jongin looks to Minseok, lets the decision rest on her, but Minseok’s never been one to prolong the inevitable and she knows a once in a lifetime chance when she sees one. She nods, and Jongin agrees. They would love to join them for dinner. 

Baekhyun smiles and mumbles something in Chinese over the phone before hanging up and turning to the group. “Did you guys drive?”

“Yeah, but we’re parked a few blocks away. I didn’t want to pay for parking,” Jongin explains. 

Baekhyun nods in understanding. “I can drive you guys to your car so you don’t have to walk,” she offers. 

Jongin lets out a breath of relief, agreeing that her offer would be lovely.

Baekhyun ushers all of them out of the venue. Her car is parked in valet parking right in front of the building. She gives Minseok the key so that she and Jongin can walk out virtually un-photographed and get in the car before she and Sehun grab the attention of the cameras waiting outside.

Minseok’s glad she does so after walking out and spotting the gaggle of photographers. Jongin holds up his own camera and gives a little wave to a few of the paps he recognizes, then slides into the backseat of Baekhyun’s Audi, Minseok following him in. A couple of minutes after, cameras begin flashing. Minseok looks out the window, watches as Baekhyun clacks delicately across the sidewalk, straight-faced and cold. Sehun mirrors her expression, sliding into the passenger seat while Baekhyun hurries around into the driver’s seat.

When she finds her seat, she wastes no time setting up music or adjusting her mirrors. She merely starts the car and pulls out into traffic. Only once they’re moving does she turn on the sound system, allowing Sehun to bluetooth connect her phone. 

She and Sehun chat between themselves, letting Jongin and Minseok relax a bit before drawing them into the conversation as well. “So where did you and Sehunie meet, Jongin?” Baekhyun asks curiously, glancing back at him in the rearview mirror.

“We went to school together when we were younger and just never grew apart, I guess,” he explains.

“That’s nice, and how about you and Minseok? Forgive me, but I wouldn’t peg a novelist as a social butterfly or anything,” Baekhyun continues. 

Jongin glances over at Minseok. They can’t exactly explain that they met through work.

“Jongin and I met on the train. He had his niece and nephew with him and I like kids, so we started talking,” she explains. “We actually have a mutual friend, though, so we ended up meeting again.” 

Baekhyun gives a little _ah_ of acknowledgement, returning her eyes back to the road while Sehun twists in her seat to tell Jongin about one of the shoots she had last week. Minseok’s surprised that, even though she’s in a car with the woman she’s investigating, she’s never felt more comfortable with a pair of strangers before. It’s a little alarming.

Baekhyun delivers them beside their car, the journey having taken a lot longer because of the late-night traffic. Still, Minseok’s grateful she didn’t have to walk the six blocks in her heels again. 

“I’ll text you the address,” Sehun tells Jongin, “When you get to the gate, just call, and we’ll let you through,” she continues. 

Jongin nods and Minseok commits their directions to memory, just in case they slip Jongin’s mind.

Then the Audi’s window is rolling back up and it’s pulling back onto the street, gliding away from them, leaving behind only the stark neon of its brake-lights. 

***

Once they’re buzzed through the gate, Minseok can do nothing but gape as Baekhyun’s home comes into view. At the end of the gravel driveway stands a Western-style, white manor with twin staircases leading up to the raised porch from the circle-drive. The moon rises up just behind the manor, casting it in a bright silver glow.

Woods stretch out on either side of the property. The estate is large, much larger than Minseok had been expecting, but considering Kris Wu is just as established, just as rich, as Baekhyun is, maybe she shouldn’t have been so shocked.

She turns her gaze from the imposing woodland and focuses back on the house, doing her best to get over her shock before she’s let inside. The front door opens, casting a soft golden glow onto the porch balcony. A moment later, Sehun appears at the top of the steps. She’s changed into a silk shirt and pants, looking infinitely more casual, but she is still flaunting her wealth, her style. 

Jongin parks the car behind Baekhyun’s Audi and a sleek, black Mercedes. Then they greet Sehun at the stairs. She leads them up, chattering along with Jongin as she does so. 

“Your guests have arrived!” she says with a flourish, gliding into the home. Jongin follows her shyly, while Minseok brings up the rear, closing the front door and locking it behind herself. 

Sehun leads them through the foyer and into the dining room and kitchen. Baekhyun’s sat at the bar, still dressed in what she had worn to the show, with an olive perched between two pretty fingers. She pops it in her mouth, then turns and sends a boxy smile their way. 

“Jongin, Minseok, this is Yifan,” she introduces.

Kris Wu. Wu Yifan. If it weren’t for his casual style, Minseok would probably have been more intimidated. As he stands now, Yifan is tall, a little strict looking, but amicable. He greets both of the newcomers with a nod and returns to his pots. 

“Do you cook for yourselves every night?” Minseok asks as she takes a seat at the bar. 

Sehun and Jongin retreat to the dining table, where they sprawl over the chairs comfortably and catch up on all they’ve been doing.

“Not every night, and we have a commercial-grade kitchen as well for when we hire a private chef and their staff, but I like Yifan’s cooking the most,” Baekhyun explains, turning to blow a kiss at her husband. 

Minseok snorts. 

“Why? Does that surprise you?”

“It’s just that every wealthy person I know eats out more than they cook for themselves,” Minseok clarifies, hoping her curiosity isn’t taken the wrong way.

“ _Ah_ ,” Baekhyun hums, “yeah—no. I don’t like the fanfare of going out to eat. Really, I’m a homebody.”

“Being a homebody and a socialite are not complimentary traits, babe,” Yifan rumbles, turning off the electric stove and motioning towards the table. “Dinner’s ready,” he says over Baekhyun’s pouting. 

Baekhyun _humphs_ and gets up from the bar, fetching two of the plates from the table. Minseok follows her. 

Baekhyun hands off one of the plates to Yifan, waiting for him to serve himself before she gets her food. Minseok serves herself next, followed by Jongin, then Sehun, and then they all return to the table to eat.

Dinner is as quiet an affair as it could be with both Baekhyun and Yifan involved. It’s like the both of them _have_ to fill the void of silence, but Minseok finds that she doesn’t mind. Jongin, too, seems well at ease, relaxing and opening up to the conversation even though he is far more shy than Minseok. 

Towards the end of their meal, there is a knock at the front door. Baekhyun puts down her chopsticks and excuses herself from the table. They can hear the front door open and then the resounding welcome. A couple of minutes later, Baekhyun walks back into the dining room, this time followed by a lanky young man. She doesn’t introduce him, and he doesn’t introduce himself, simply following the actress further into the house and out of view.

When Minseok raises an eyebrow, Yifan explains, “That was Chanyeol. He’s a friend of Baek’s from college. I don’t know why he came in tonight, though.”

“There’s a party later,” Sehun explains. “Yixing’s coming in late, so we pushed the time. It’s going to be me, Chanyeol, Yixing, Taeyeon, and Luhan tonight.”

Yifan sighs. “I’ll head to bed early then, before you get loud enough to keep me up.” 

He excuses himself from the table. As he leaves the room, Baekhyun returns. She gives him a questioning look, but relaxes once he tells her he’s heading to bed before her party can keep him awake. She rises up on her tippy toes and kisses his cheek, then returns to the table. 

She picks up both his plate and her own, then offers her hand for the rest. Minseok’s not used to someone else taking her plate and cleaning it, but she doesn’t complain, perfectly satisfied to stay seated. She’s happy and full. Yifan’s cooking had impressed her. 

“Are you two going to be all right driving home? It’s late,” Baekhyun says when she comes back. 

Jongin nods, placating her. “I think we’ll be fine,” he says. 

Minseok nods, then asks, “Before we head out, do you mind if I could use your bathroom?”

Baekhyun grins and leads her into the hall. She points to the staircase. “It’s up one floor, third door on the right.” She motions so that Minseok knows what right she’s talking about, then leaves Minseok to find her way.

Minseok finds the bathroom without a problem, quickly doing her business and then going to the sink to wash her hands. She slips her grandmother’s ring off her finger and sets it by the faucet, taking the bar of soap in her hands and scrubbing until she’s satisfied. Then, she turns off the faucet and leaves, flicking the bathroom light off as she goes. 

There are three other doors in the hallway. One on what’s now her right and the two that are now on her left. She hesitates, then makes to open the door on her right. The knob doesn’t budge. Locked. She cringes, suddenly feeling exposed, then turns and almost tries one of the doors to her left until she remembers that there’s someone in the house left unaccounted for—Chanyeol. 

She doesn’t know if he’s staying in one of the guest bedrooms right at that moment, and she’s not sure she can create a believable lie if she were to open the door and walk in on him. So, her hand drops back down to her side and she makes her way back downstairs.

She and Jongin thank Baekhyun for hosting them for dinner, Jongin giving Sehun a hug goodbye, and then they leave. Before they pull away from the curb, Minseok looks back up to the porch. Her blood warms when she meets Baekhyun’s gaze. 

The woman smiles. Then she turns around, disappearing back into her home.

Minseok can’t help but feel like she was being judged.

***

“When’s Yixing coming in?” Sehun asks as soon as Baekhyun slides the lock home, the door barring them from the outside world. 

Baekhyun takes a look at her phone, noting the time, then replies that she should be around in a couple of hours at best. 

Sehun claps her hands at that. “I’ll have plenty of time to _relax_ with Luhan then,” she sighs dreamily. “He texted me that he’s already in the neighborhood,” she explains a beat later.

Baekhyun arches a brow at that. “ _Exciting,”_ she purrs. “I’m going to go set up the altar.” 

Sehun’s grin grows even brighter, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “You’ve had an aura around you all night,” she tells Baekhyun. “Are you attempting to summon something? Something powerful, perhaps?”

Baekhyun laughs at this, as if it’s a joke that only she knows the punchline to. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, no?” she teases, pulling away from Sehun and making her way towards the back porch while the younger girl bemoans her secrets. 

Chanyeol has disappeared from the lounge where she left him, which means he’s probably gone ahead and joined Yifan upstairs in the time it took her and Sehun to see their guests out. He’ll join them later in the night, when Yixing has joined the party and they are truly ready to begin. 

Baekhyun lets herself out into the cold autumn air, closing the door behind her with a dull _click._ For a moment, she stands there on the porch, staring out at the glowing silver moon in the distance. Then she raises her hands, palms up, from her sides, cradling the moon, and turns to go back inside, this time making her way upstairs.

She lets herself into the master bedroom, already cognizant of the soft moans emanating from the other side of the door, and glances briefly at the intertwined bodies. Chanyeol looks up, a blush painting his cheeks and chest, his eyes wide and doe-like. Then, he cracks a crooked, boyish grin. 

“How cute,” Baekhyun coos, walking beyond the bed and into the closet she keeps hidden behind a floor-length mirror.

She pulls the edge of the mirror towards herself, then steps into the dark doorway that’s revealed, letting the door swing shut behind her. She feels along the wall, flipping the light switch once her hand comes into contact with it. Instantly, the closet is bathed in glowing yellow light, revealing bookshelves of assorted items. Baekhyun reaches out for the black, bound book closest to the door, clutching it to her chest. Her Book of Shadows. Then she peruses the shelves, eyes trained to look for a specific assortment of pieces.

She finds it towards the back of the closet—which makes sense. She’s inherited most of these items from Yixing as a gesture of good faith. All of the items contained on this shelf were present at the last attempt Yixing had made to summon this deity, this demon. All of these items had watched her fail.

_“Chen,”_ she breathes aloud, her voice a whisper even in the silence. “I’m excited to meet you,” she continues. Her smile gleams and she begins to pick up the items housed on these shelves, placing them into a bag to carry them down. There’s the goat skull, symbolic of freedom and independence; a cluster of various crystals, those that amplify their mana, those that symbolize different manifestations they would like to see; there are the instruments, the knife, the bowl, the chalice; there are the robes.

Downstairs, she’ll fetch their herbs and food offerings. She flips the lights back off in the closet and leaves with her book and bag of tricks in hand. Chanyeol and Yifan don’t notice her slipping back out the door.

At this point in the night, Luhan has arrived, making Taeyeon and Yixing the last to show. Baekhyun sends Luhan a smile and winks. Before her gaze flickers away, she sees him laugh and slide his hand down Sehun’s side. 

Baekhyun turns to the kitchen, setting her bag of altar pieces on the counter and turning to the pantry. Blackberries and basil for prosperity, wealth, and sex. Chocolate for romance and friendship—bonding. Wine for grounding. She returns to the kitchen, to her bag, and then takes everything she has gathered outside.

In the garden, she plucks carnations for pride and beauty. Then, she begins to make her way away from the house, into the woods, barefoot but unhurried.

She reaches the clearing and finally it is time to prepare the altar for their ritual. “It is the Wine Moon,” she says aloud, her voice floating around the clearing, light and whimsical. She’s inviting the sprites, the ghouls, the faeries to come out and join them, to dance with them later. She puts everything down on the dirt below her feet and turns to the fire pit. She moves the wood, pours wine around the pit, into it, watches it bubble into the ground. Then she sprinkles the basil down. At this point, she fetches wood from the nearby woodpile and begins to build the fire.

In time, the firewood is prepared, standing tall, ready to burn for hours. She nestles the blackberries, the carnations, the chocolate in between the logs to be consumed once the fire is lit. Then she steps back and begins to draw a summoning circle into the ground with a stick. This one has a specific beauty to it. It’s not particularly difficult, but it has several elements that, if drawn just slightly off-kilter, break the circle’s power. And if the circle is not powerful enough to hold back the demon once it is summoned, then there is no reason to have a circle in the first place.

She’s not sure how long she’s outside drawing out the circle, not until a pair of hands land on her shoulders, her neck. 

“You’re so cold,” Yixing mumbles against her ear, looking over her shoulder at the circle. 

“I don’t feel like it,” Baekhyun mumbles, turning ever so slightly, mouth parting. 

Yixing grins, mouths at her cheek, presses the barest of a kiss at the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. 

“Then I suppose that’s good, hmm? The others are on their way now, are you ready?”

“Yes,” she says, drawing the last line of the circle. Wind whistles through the trees, tugging at her dress and hair. Yixing pulls away from her back, slipping Baekhyun’s thin dress straps off her shoulders and letting the dress fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. Baekhyun stands naked, beautiful, in front of the summoning circle. 

Yixing slips a silky sheath over her body. It isn’t heavy enough to protect her from the wind, nor does it hide her body, but it does keep dirt and twigs from scratching against her bare skin. “Kneel,” Yixing commands quietly. Baekhyun sighs, all thoughts cascading from her mind and she gets down to her knees and relaxes before the circle. Yixing walks around the circle, to the fire, and lights it. 

Though it starts small, as a normal fire would, Yixing soon utters a phrase, sharp and singsong, and the fire bursts into a roar, lighting up the entire clearing. 

Voices herald the arrival of the others as they take their places around the fire. Yixing begins their prayer, the rhythmic chanting spilling forth from their lips as they catch onto the tune, the intent of the song. 

She steps back around the circle to where Baekhyun sits and takes the place right behind her, her voice melting into the chant with the others. Her part in the show is over, now it is Baekhyun’s turn. 

She picks up the knife and holds it up to her tongue, slicing the muscle open with little fanfare, wincing as she does so. Blood and drool drip from her tongue, spill first on the earth. Then, she leans forward, just over the goat’s skull, and lets scarlet paint the face of it. Then, she pulls her tongue back into her mouth, by now more than accustomed to the taste of blood as it invades her senses.

She swallows and reaches forward for the bowl, pouring wine into it. Then, she gets up and walks around the circle, slicing open the offered palms of all those present, letting them drop their blood into the bowl. Finally, she returns to her place, slicing open her own palms and adding her blood—untainted by the makeup on her lips, the alcohol that still rests on her tongue. 

She swallows again, then opens her mouth, her voice high and stark against the cultists’ chant. She sings a different tune, one that actually invokes, not one of mere worship. She pours half of what’s in the bowl into the chalice and reaches forward, setting the goblet down in its place within the circle. 

_“Chen,”_ she invites, her voice syrupy and sweet. “Come,” she calls again, throwing the rest of the bowl’s mixture into the flames.

The woods groan, wood snapping and crackling around them. The fire grows, flames turned white. Around them, the rocks and crystals Baekhyun had brought as conduits begin to shatter and crack, spiritual energy ripping them apart at the seams. In the sky, the moon blazes as bright as the sun. 

The circle begins to tremble, to crawl, to bubble and boil. The earth it is drawn into shivers and breaks up, becoming more like quicksand than dirt. Cicadas begin to sing, their voices screaming out into the night. A hand thrusts itself up from the quicksand, its nails long and sharp, and grabs at the earth, which solidifies in their grip. The arm flexes, muscles working in excess, and then it begins to drag the rest of its physical body onto the mortal plane.

A second arm joins the first, pulling and dragging until a head appears. Then, the neck, the torso, the waist. Finally, the legs. Its skin is a deep golden, sparkling with sweat, smudged with ash and blood. 

The demon rests, hunched over. Then it looks up, its eyes deep and black as coal. It holds Baekhyun’s gaze arrogantly, its eyebrow arching in challenge. It sits up, rolling its shoulders back and raising its chin boastfully.

Baekhyun’s swallows her arousal, her desire. The demon has chosen a feminine body—a beautiful body. “Welcome,” Baekhyun says, glancing down at the offered chalice. The demon follows her gaze and wraps its fingers around the stem and brings the gold up to its lips. It drinks greedily, messily, causing plum-colored rivulets to run down its chin and neck. 

It casts the chalice aside once it is finished, watches the soft gold melt next to the fire. Baekhyun cannot even begin to mourn the loss of the expensive item because the demon in front of her is priceless in comparison. 

“Chen?” she asks this time.

The demon cocks its head, nods, a grin spreading across its face. It beckons to her, curling two fingers towards her. Unthinkingly, she reaches forward into the circle. She can hear the lull in the chant, as each participant simultaneously gasps in horror.

Except that the demon does not tear her apart. It pulls her forward, into its arms and it purrs a sound halfway between pleasure and curiosity. It cards its fingers through her hair, the nails on its hand just barely scratching at her skin. One hand falls down to her lips, coaxes her mouth open, lets blood dribble free from where she had cut herself earlier in the ritual. 

Her hands smear bloody marks on the demon’s legs where she situates herself, but it doesn’t seem to care. She doubts that it would. 

“What’s your name, priestess?” the demon finally rumbles, its voice feminine, but low and raspy in tone. 

“Baekhyun,” she mumbles, captivated by the pretty demon cradling her. 

“How pretty,” it responds, pulling her more fully into its lap. 

Baekhyun realizes idly that she’s actually larger than the demon. Her hips are wider, her body taller, her shoulders broader. The demon is quite slight, apart from the muscle definition over much of their body. 

“And why have you summoned me?”

“I wanted to give you freedom,” Baekhyun says slowly. “Absolution from the bonds of hell.”

“There is more, though,” the demon coaxes, hands caressing over Baekhyun’s neck.

“I want power,” Baekhyun says. 

She does want power, that much the demon _can_ tell, quite easily. In fact, it’s impressed by the clarity in which she has ordered her desires. Ultimately, Baekhyun is a human that craves control, utter domination. Beneath that, Chen sees the desire for partnership, for sex, for love. There is an arrogant cadence to its summoner’s soul. A cadence that reflects Chen’s own realm.

“I can give you power, Baekhyun,” the demon says, “I can give you the _world._ ” Baekhyun’s eyes glitter with interest, with lust. “But I am not free yet.”

This is the decision. The demon looks around, sees two familiar faces: Luhan, and Yixing. This is the part of the ritual Yixing had trusted too much in. Chen had not seen the same desires in Yixing that it sees now in Baekhyun—similar desires, yes, but not the same. 

Baekhyun draws herself back, pulling out of Chen’s arms and reaches out to grab the dagger. Her fingers wrap around the hilt and she drags the blade down through the lines of the circle.

Energy bursts forth, the demon released from its bondage in full. Chen purrs happily, then stands. It reaches forward, gripping Baekhyun’s chin in its hand. “We’ll meet again.”

Then, the demon falls backwards into the fire, the flames consuming it as if it were gasoline. 

Baekhyun keels forward, her body limp.

***

“Chanyeol thought you were dead,” Yixing says once Baekhyun finally begins to blink open her eyes. She’s submerged in water. Her bath. “You weren’t, but you did fall very close to the fire. If he hadn’t pulled you away as fast as he did, your hair would have been torched.” 

“Well, that’s good,” Baekhyun hums, leaning back into the water, letting warmth crawl up her skull, caress her body. “Was it successful?” she asks, a beat later, “Or did I fuck up?”

“You certainly put a lot of trust in a demon that excels in mischief and lies, but yes, the ritual was successful. Chen now exists, in some capacity, in our realm,” Yixing confirms, resting her head on her arms, fingers dipped into the water of the tub, swirling around the soap and spices that she must have added.

Baekhyun sighs and then, she laughs, a long crowing sound of delight. “Chen is mine!” she gloats happily, eyes closed, body relaxed even though her blood sings like a wire.

She doesn’t see Yixing’s gaze harden, eyes turning cold, blood run envious.

***

It takes her until she’s going into work Monday morning for her to realize she’s fucked up. Big time. She notices it when she’s driving. Her ring is _not_ on her hand. For a moment, she thinks she may have just left it on the bathroom counter when she was doing her morning routine, but then, she realizes that she hadn’t taken it off then either.

Her blood runs cold, and she’s still not resolved of her panic when she walks into the office—on time for once. Kyungsoo must notice her anxiety because he turns around with a concerned furrow to his brow, “Are you okay?”

“I lost my grandmother’s ring and I don’t know when,” she says, sitting down at her desk and plopping her purse into her lap, rifling through it just to see if the ring happened to be glinting from the bottom of her bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can you think of the last time you had it?” Kyungsoo asks.

_Can she?_ She didn’t have it on this morning, so she had to have lost it sometime before that. Her blood runs cold at the thought of it falling off during the fashion show. 

Then, she relaxes. She remembers where it is now. Can relive for herself clear as day working the ring off her finger to wash her hands at Baekhyun’s house. “I know where I left it,” she says. 

Kyungsoo grins. 

“I left it at Baekhyun’s house.”

At that, Kyungsoo’s face falls, a frown etching its way onto his skin. “Byun Baekhyun? Are you sure you’re okay, Minseok?” he asks concernedly. 

“Yeah, you know Sehun, right?” 

Kyungsoo nods. 

“Well, she had invited Baekhyun to watch her show as well. We talked a bit, then Sehun asked if Jongin and I could have dinner with them since Zhang Yixing’s flight had been pushed back.” Everything’s coming back much more clearly now that she’s focused on it, and what had seemed trivial Friday night suddenly has a lot more significance. “Actually, speaking of it…” she trails off, turning back to her desk and opening up her laptop.

She pulls up a few pictures of Baekhyun’s clique. _Chanyeol, Taeyeon, Yixing, and Luhan,_ she thinks to herself, scanning the photographs. She’s got Yixing and Luhan in a few images, but not Taeyeon or Chanyeol.

“Do you know a famous Taeyeon?”

“ _Girls Generation_ Taeyeon is the first to come to mind,” Kyungsoo comments, peering over her shoulder. “Her surname’s Kim.”

Minseok searches for her name in conjunction with Baekhyun’s. None of the first results show anything, but the deeper she dives, she finds a fan post about the two. 

> **B4EKYE0N:** I’ve been analyzing _GG’s_ Taeyeon and actress Baekhyun’s relationship for a few weeks now, and I’m _positive_ there’s something going on. 
> 
> [Image Attached] 
> 
> As you can see, they appear to be _very_ good friends—if you know what I mean ;)) I’ve compiled a few other photos that suggest they might be dating. Let me know what you think and if I missed any moments!! 
> 
> [Image Attached]
> 
> [Image Attached]
> 
> [Image Attached] 
> 
> ❤︎

“Did you know there were dating rumors about Kim Taeyeon and Byun Baekhyun?”

“Aren’t they both women?” Kyungsoo’s tone doesn’t sound judgmental, just a little disbelieving. Still, Minseok can’t help the uncomfortable prickling of shame that settles at the back of her neck.

“Well, yeah, but look. It seems like a lot of their fans ‘ship’ them,” she says, scrolling down through the forum posts. There are a _lot_ of pictures, even though the majority of them a super grainy. However, it does seem to be more than the usual shipping craze. It seems to avoid hyper-analyzation. Minseok actually feels like the original poster might have merit. 

She looks up the women’s two names with “dating” attached next, only to find a company statement from back in 2014 that denied _and_ quelled the rumors. She lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, eyes wide.

Then, “Okay, so Kim Taeyeon was a hit. Do you happen to know any famous Chanyeols?” It’s really a shot in the dark, since Chanyeol hadn’t _looked_ like he shit gold bricks, but _hey._

“None come to mind,” Kyungsoo says. 

Minseok sighs, then turns back to her laptop, googling Baekhyun’s and Chanyeol’s names in tandem.

She gets one result, a photograph from an article about Seoul Institute of the Arts, that lists a Park Chanyeol next to Byun Baekhyun. She then looks up Chanyeol’s name alone, coming up with a Soundcloud and Youtube channel, as well as an Instagram, but little else. She does scan through his accounts, though, just to see if she can spot anything recognizable.

She doesn’t, and so she’s returned back to square one, Park Chanyeol remaining an enigma to her. She’s also still worried about her ring. She just has no idea how to get it back.

So, she puts it off for the time being, picking up an old article of hers that can be polished up and sent off for publication (assuming it’s up to par).

She becomes so engrossed in editing that she misses the first time her phone’s notification bell goes off. By the second and third time, however, she’s hurriedly reaching over and switching off the ringer, apologizing to Kyungsoo as she does so.

Except, that the texts make her jaw drop.

> **Unknown:** Hey! Is this Minseok? I got this number from Sehun, who got it from Jongin.

The texter doesn’t introduce themselves, but, Minseok can already guess who they are.

> **Unknown:** I’m texting because it looks like she may have left her ring at my place. It looks really old, so it might have some sentimental value? 
> 
> **Unknown:** Please get back to me! If it’s the wrong number, I’ll find another way to contact her, just let me know!

Minseok hurriedly texts a response, confirming the number is hers, that she had realized she’d lost her ring, and that it’s important to her. She receives a text back a few seconds later. Baekhyun’s text tone instantly changes from formal to something Minseok can only describe as cute and casual.

> **Baekhyun:** o good! i would give it to sehun but she has a habit of losing the most important things, u know
> 
> **Baekhyun:** if u want, u can just drive over and pick it up??

Minseok sighs and replies that she doesn’t have a car, and that she takes the train most places.

> **Baekhyun:** i shouldnt have assumed! if u want, we can meet somewhere and i can give it back to u

“Who are you texting?”

“Baekhyun.”

Again, Kyungsoo turns around, shock written all over his face. 

Minseok notices, commenting, “I know, it’s really weird, but everything seems to be aligning. I don’t know why, I’m just going with it.” Then she replies to Baekhyun that her suggestion might be the easiest option for the both of them. 

> **Baekhyun:** ok! theres this rlly nice hole in the wall thai place near this one station if u want to meet there n maybe have lunch or something?? 
> 
> **Baekhyun:** does today work,, i have a lot of schedules coming up

She replies a moment later with a google link to the restaurant. Minseok scans the prices and decides that they’re affordable enough for now. She texts Baekhyun a confirmation then sets her phone down, placing her head in her hands.

“I’m going to meet her at some Thai place for lunch,” she comments mildly. 

Kyungsoo gapes. 

“Kyungsoo, she’s shady, but she’s also really hospitable and nice for someone that’s supposed to be a murderer or whatever.” She groans, “I don’t know what to think. If she’s a criminal she certainly doesn’t act like it. She just seems like a really private person with a close-knit group of friends.”

Kyungsoo cocks his head, tutting his tongue. “Maybe that _is_ all she is,” he suggests. 

Minseok groans at that. Baekhyun’s nice enough that Minseok feels bad for wanting to tear down her career, but Minseok also _depends_ on her job. She cannot lose it, not now.

“Hey, why not you just compile everything you’ve learned so far and start theorizing. You can’t prove a lot right now, but maybe you’ll notice a connection you hadn’t before?” Kyungsoo says, drawing her attention away from her fears. 

Minseok sits up, nods slowly, and turns around, returning to her computer, saving photos of each person she’s met so far and attaching little notes about what she noticed to them.

Time passes quickly like that, leading lunch to come much sooner than she really is prepared for. “All right, I’m heading out,” she tells Kyungsoo. “I’ll text you if she keeps me out longer than my break—if Junmyeon asks tell him I’m doing recon.” 

Kyungsoo snorts at that but salutes her anyways, telling her not to worry about it. Minseok grins and changes from her business attire into the casual clothes she’d packed, then leaves for the train.

After her stop, she walks the rest of the way until she’s standing just across the street from the little Thai place. She stares up at it, noting the worn down sign and the flickering neon ‘open’ sign hanging in the doorway. If she hadn’t been sent the address, she’s not sure she would have ever noticed the place, even though she’s the type to hunt down these types of places. Looking at it, all she can think is that it looks cheap, a little rundown.

A car pulls up to the curb, expensive and sleek. It’s the Mercedes from the night prior. Baekhyun steps out, holding the door open long enough to say something to her driver—her husband?—before shutting it and meeting Minseok’s gaze. She waves. She’s dressed much more casually than Minseok’s ever seen her, even when looking up photos online. She’s wearing an oversized Supreme hoodie and sweatpants. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, her feet slipped into scuffed, white sneakers. 

Minseok crosses the street and joins her, “Hey, thank you so much for bringing the ring! I can’t believe I forgot it,” she mumbles thankfully as Baekhyun holds her ring out for her to take. She slips it back onto her finger, then follows Baekhyun into the restaurant. 

“It’s no problem! I’ve lost rings with sentimental value before and it’s really crushing, even if it’s only a piece of metal and a gem at the end of the day,” Baekhyun says. The comment instantly reminds Minseok of just what ring she’d lost, and the theories about where it had been found. The thought has her heart thudding faster for a moment before she can calm herself down and return to the nonchalance she’s tried to adopt around the actress.

“Yeah, but it’s really kind of you to come out of your way to get it back to me,” Minseok says before letting her voice trail off so that Baekhyun can talk to the hostess. 

The inside of the restaurant is actually much nicer than the storefront would suggest. It’s also pretty dim and quiet. Minseok can instantly see why a star like Baekhyun would ask to meet at a place like this. The hostess leads them around to a corner booth, where Baekhyun sits with her back facing the door. 

“So, I know I already asked you about the show, but did you really enjoy it? Is it going to help you with your novel?” Baekhyun asks once they’re seated and have ordered their drinks.

Minseok pauses for a moment, collecting her thoughts, then, she smiles, “I _loved_ the show. Like, I felt out of my element, but just seeing how everyone else navigated it is really going to help me build my characters,” she says. “Sehun was fantastic as well. Just seeing the duality of her on the runway to how she acted at dinner was just… so unexpected, you know?”

Baekhyun laughs at that, agrees with her, then, “So, I know you said your novel was about a celebrity and her fan, but what’s the bigger plot? Is it just about them getting together and falling in love, or?”

“I was actually thinking of trying out a thriller, or maybe even making it supernatural," Minseok says unthinkingly, cringing internally when she really thinks about her words. They hit a little too close to home to her investigation.

Still, Baekhyun doesn’t appear at all fazed, instead _oo_ -ing and _ah_ -ing at her words. “I _love_ thrillers,” Baekhyun says, smiling at the waitress that brings their drinks and taking a sip from the straw—she’s a soda-lover, Minseok notes idly. “Mysteries too. When I was younger, I used to go out into the woods at the estate and pretend like I was following a trail and solving a crime.”

Minseok blinks, captivated by the other woman. They both pause to order, and then Baekhyun continues, “There’s actually a pond on the property, and this old cabin. Both are super creepy. My dad used to tell me it’s was a witch’s paradise—all the fog, the ravens, and the thorny herbs and whatnot.” 

Minseok holds her tongue, she’s not close enough with Baekhyun to be able to joke about her witchcraft accusations—actually, she’s not even sure if Baekhyun allows her _friends_ to make jokes of that matter.

“But, I don’t know, the manor can feel a little spooky at times. Like when you wake up super early in the morning and go downstairs to get something to eat or drink… you always feel like you’re being watched,” Baekhyun’s voice drops lower as she describes the feeling, her fingers creeping along the table before she flexes them into “claws.” She grins then, inviting Minseok to mirror her.

“I can’t imagine living in a place that big, at least you have Yifan, right?” Minseok says. If she were alone in a home that big, she knows her imagination would get the best of her, but she thinks if she lived with someone like Kyungsoo or Jongin she might be okay. 

Baekhyun hums, twirling her chopsticks between her fingers, “We have such packed schedules at times that it’s rare for both of us to always be home, but it’s all right.” She doesn’t appear _too_ dour at the fact, Minseok notes. “It gives us room to have our own interests. We’re not always looking over each other’s shoulders, you know?”

Minseok nods to say that she understands. At that point, their food arrives. “You mentioned you were about to have a lot of schedules. Filming?” Minseok guesses.

“Sorta. I’m doing some voice acting and body models for a new video game coming out. I think it’s a zombie, first-person shooter,” she explains. “I actually really like video games, so I sort of jumped on the offer, even though it means I have to be in L.A. for a few days.”

Minseok hums in acknowledgement, “I’m sure you’ll be back in no time,” she says. Baekhyun nods, slurping up a noodle with a giggle.

“I hope so. I like being at home. After this schedule I’ll actually be able to stay in Korea for a while, thankfully. It’s not going to be as intense,” she informs. “Actually, if you want, when I get back, I can take you out to one of my friend’s get-togethers. He has them every month, but I missed the last one. He won’t mind another guest, any-who,” Baekhyun invites. 

Minseok pauses, a little wary of the offer. She’s reminded of how each of the four rising stars had disappeared—shortly after befriending Baekhyun. Still, she’s going to need to take a little risk if she’s going to uncover anything.

There’s also the simple fact that Baekhyun may be completely innocent, and so Minseok’s worrying about nothing. With this thought in mind, Minseok grins. 

“I would love to come. Are you absolutely sure?”

“Of course, it’ll probably help you with your novel! Besides, I’m not as close to Sungnim as I used to be—it’ll be nice to have a friend of my own to latch onto,” Baekhyun says. Minseok is once again startled by just how inviting of a smile Baekhyun has. “I’ll text you the date, remember, after I’m back from L.A.,” she says, tapping her phone. “Plan on it!” 

Minseok laughs, agreeing, even though her heart flutters at Baekhyun’s use of the word “friend.” Alas, by this point in their meal, they’re both full, and so ask for the checks. Baekhyun pays for her meal, and Minseok for hers. Then, they both get up and walk back out into the street. Baekhyun shoots off a text, asking Yifan where he’ll meet her, while Minseok waits patiently at her side. When the Mercedes pulls up, Minseok tells Baekhyun goodbye. 

She’s startled when Baekhyun pulls her in for a hug instead, patting her back gently. “I had a great time! Make sure you don’t lose your ring again,” she says before pulling away. She shoots Minseok a wink, then slides into the waiting car.

Minseok has to try her hardest not to blush at the brief show of affection.

***

“I’m screwed,” she says a few days later in the office, midway through editing one of the new intern’s articles. 

The realization comes in the form of a string of texts. Baekhyun, for all of the photographs that show her stoney-faced and aloof, is _chatty_. Minseok can’t decide if it’s a blessing or a curse.

“Baekhyun again?” Kyungsoo asks, not looking up from his work. Though he’s still a bit disbelieving of how quickly Baekhyun has become an influence on Minseok’s life, he doesn’t question her as much about it anymore.

“Yeah,” Minseok says, glancing down at the string of texts. It’s all fluff, just Baekhyun texting Minseok pictures and telling her what recording and modeling is like—for “Minseokkie’s book!” She scrolls through the endless chatter, shooting off a quick text about how sweet it is that Baekhyun’s thinking of her book, telling her that writing is coming along just dandily. “She’s checking in on how my book writing is going,” Minseok explains.

Kyungsoo turns and gives her a _look_ , eyebrow raised, before swiveling back to his work. “That’s rather friendly, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it is. Kyungsoo… there is _no_ way she’s murdering people.”

“She might not be,” Kyungsoo says, “but she _might_ be having an affair. Or looking for one. You don’t think she’s just a little _too_ friendly?” He suggests.

Minseok pauses, incredulous. “I’m a woman.”

“Jongin and I are men, homosexuals do exist.”

“I’m not saying they don’t!” Minseok remedies quickly. She would know. “I’m just… _statistically_ how likely is it that she’s gay?”

“You read articles about her supposed relationship with Kim Taeyeon just a week ago, Min. So, I’d say they’re pretty high,” Kyungsoo reasons, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

Minseok splutters, blushing. “Even if she is gay, which I suppose is pretty likely considering, her being _friendly_ doesn’t mean anything.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Kyungsoo says simply. “I mean, think about it,” he says, closing his laptop and spinning around to face her, “You’ve known her for what, two weeks now, met her in person maybe twice, and she’s already invited you out to _another_ party. Not to mention she texts you all the time.”

“Things are moving fast, but, isn’t that good?” Minseok defends, eyes wide. “I’m supposed to find dirt on her—what better way than getting close to her?”

“I’m just worried. You’ve got a soft heart, Min, and I’m afraid she’ll sink her pretty, pink nails right into it.”

Minseok stares at him. She’s never come out to him (mind you, before his comment about Jongin and he, she’d only had theories about the two of them), but it’s almost like he _knows_ that she’s not who she outwardly portrays herself to be. It’s like he knows what lies in her heart. 

“I’ll be careful, Soo. Really.” 

He holds her stare for a long moment, then acquiesces, turning back to his work.

***

Baekhyun calls her as soon as she flies back into town. Minseok knows she’s back. Her phone’s currently going off with Twitter notifications as Baekhyun’s fansite masters update previews of her airport arrival. Still, the call feels like it comes out of nowhere, a real shock.

Minseok is home at the time, though, since it’s a weekend, so she answers it, putting it on speaker while she continues to cook her ramen. “Hello?”

_“Minseok!”_ The voice crackles, _“Are you free right now? The party is tonight, and I want to make sure you’re well-dressed for it!”_

Minseok’s reminded of Baekhyun’s promise from a couple of weeks ago. Her mouth falls open. “The party’s tonight!?” she yelps.

_“Did I not tell you!? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. If you want we can cancel! Don’t feel obligated to come if it’s going to be a hassle!”_

“No, no it’s fine. I just didn’t think about it. What were you saying?” She says, her mouth running much more quickly than her brain. 

_“I wanted to come pick you up and take you shopping, if you’re interested? Unfortunately, there will probably be cameras, but I’ll have security, if you’re worried!”_

Baekhyun sounds excited, but also apprehensive, like she’s afraid Minseok’s going to say no. It has Minseok’s stomach turning a bit, the idea of Baekhyun caring about how Minseok thinks of her. It’s strange.

Minseok turns off the fire to her pot and ziplocks the toppings and meat that she was intending to put in her soup, sticking it all in the fridge as she tells Baekhyun that she doesn’t mind heading out to shop with her, just that Minseok doesn’t have so much spending money to really use.

Baekhyun assures her that it’ll be a gift, since Baekhyun invited her to the party despite knowing the dress code and whatnot was way out of Minseok’s price range. Minseok’s not one to like handouts, but she wants to go to this party anyways, if only to get dirt on Baekhyun, so she agrees.

_“Text me you’re address and I’ll be there soon! We’re still stuck in airport traffic,”_ she says before hanging up. 

Minseok snorts, but does as asked. Then she thinks about what Baekhyun said about the cameras. Her job at the magazine is quite small, and she’s normally in the office, not on the field. So she thinks she’s pretty safe from being recognized. Additionally, Minseok has no social media accounts, and only has her aunt and mother left, so it’s not like she has to worry about family blowing her cover.

She’ll just have to worry about whether or not fans speculate anything about her outing. For all they know, she’s just one of Baekhyun’s friends and they won’t pry too hard. 

***

“I didn’t expect you would live here,” Baekhyun says once Minseok slides into the car, purse and phone in hand. Her tone holds no judgment. She’s simply stating a fact.

“My mother’s at an assisted living home, so I put most of my money towards that,” Minseok explains, giving a little foundation to her living situation. She’s not in the best neighborhood, and her apartment block certainly doesn’t look nice. It’s the type of building someone lives in for a few months before moving on to bigger and better things. After saying this, though, she turns and greets the other passenger in Baekhyun’s car—the driver.

“That’s my manager, Yongmin,” Baekhyun explains. Minseok bows respectfully, then leans back in her seat. “We’re going to head to the mall. We’ll get you a cocktail dress for the party tonight, have you looking _extra_ nice.” Minseok blushes, but she’s also secretly excited to be shopping with Baekhyun. 

She’s never shopped with someone who doesn’t have to look at price tags, and she’s sure the experience will be one to remember. She’s also excited to see Baekhyun in public, not necessarily in an environment where she has to put on a face. She’s curious to see if something changes, if Baekhyun reveals something about herself.

The car ride is pleasant. Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yongmin get along just fine. Baekhyun’s manager is a little wary of Minseok, asking her a lot more questions than she was expecting, but Minseok handles everything with grace, keeping careful track of her lies just in case the topics are brought up in the future. Still, she tries to keep as much truth in her words as possible, knowing that the more she lies, the easier it will be for her to slip up.

At the mall, Minseok’s pleased to see Baekhyun is mostly left alone, at least in the beginning. After a little bit, they are recognized, and Baekhyun is stopped by some fans asking about photos. Baekhyun declines them politely, but she does chat with the girls for a bit before excusing herself and pulling Minseok into a shop.

“ _Unnie_ ,” Baekhyun calls out to one of the associates. The woman looks up, seemingly recognizes Baekhyun, and begins to weave her way towards her. “We’re looking for a pretty cocktail dress for my friend Minseokkie. She has one already, but I want her in something new,” she explains, fluttering her eyelashes at the older woman. 

The woman—Sunja, her nametag reads—appraises Minseok for a minute, finally nodding. “There are some dresses we just had shipped. There’s this pretty wine red one that I think would look lovely with her skin tone.”

Baekhyun _oohs,_ grabbing Minseok by the hand and pulling her after the sales associate, towards the dressing rooms. Once the dress is brought out, Baekhyun has her go inside the dressing room to slip it on.

Minseok does so, standing in the mirror for a few seconds just to gape at herself. The soft velvet dress hugs her figure, accentuating the curve of her waist, her butt. She doesn’t even feel self-conscious about her chest—it suits the plunging neckline and spaghetti straps. Taking a breath, she steps out of the dressing room.

Baekhyun looks over from where she’s been perusing through the other dresses the associate brought out, her eyes widening at the sight of Minseok. “Oh wow, you look _really_ good in that color and cut,” She says, putting the other dresses down and stepping over to Minseok. She gently nudges her back inside the dressing room, taking up a place behind Minseok, meeting her eyes in the mirror.

Minseok’s cheeks flush hot when Baekhyun’s hands run up her neck, gathering her hair in hand and pulling it up, mocking a ponytail. She combs the flyaway hairs back, then tilts her head, staring at Minseok’s reflection. “You can oil it back, and this would look high-fashion,” she says idly, “But I think if you just pull it back and put in some hair clips it would really complete the look.”

Minseok hums in agreement, staring at herself as if she’s a new person. She doesn’t have any makeup on, but even next to Baekhyun (who does have makeup on and is naturally glowy) she actually feels beautiful for once—free of insecurity. 

“I look good,” she mumbles, turning a little and cocking her hip, staring at her reflection.

“You do,” Baekhyun agrees, similarly speechless. She recovers quickly though, shaking her head to free her thoughts. “This dress seem good? I don’t know if it’s even worth trying more on.”

Minseok’s fine with this, tells Baekhyun as much, then pushes Baekhyun out of the dressing room so she can switch back to her mundane clothes. When she rejoins Baekhyun outside the curtain, she’s led to go buy shoes and jewelry as well. Baekhyun insists on her getting rose quartz jewelry to match the red tones of her dress—she also mentions that rose quartz is a romantic stone, good for emotional healing and affection. A stone that boosts friendliness and love. Minseok raises an eyebrow at that, not fully convinced when Baekhyun plays off her knowledge as something she picked up back in geology for a project.

“I can return you home, or I can bring you to mine and we can relax there before getting ready later?” Baekhyun offers once they’re leaving the shops, bags in hand. There are many more cameras here now, fans calling out for Baekhyun’s attention. All Baekhyun does is quicken her stride. This is her private time, and though she loves her fans, she needs boundaries.

“If I’m not imposing, it might be easier to stay with you, hmm?” Minseok thinks aloud. 

Baekhyun nods and the decision is made. 

***

Baekhyun unlocks the door, then lets Minseok inside first, giggling over some joke. Minseok steps over the threshold, walking through the entrance hall and into the dining area, only to stop, stock-still and shocked.

Baekhyun actually bumps into her back because of her sudden stop. “What?” She wonders, peering over Minseok’s shoulder curiously, then she tuts her tongue. “Chanyeol, what the fuck?” she groans.

The last time Minseok saw Chanyeol was the night of that party. He had also been _clothed_ that time. This time, it’s exactly the opposite. She finds it hard to reconcile Chanyeol’s baby face with his body, which is obviously exercised to perfection.

_He could be a model_ , she thinks idly. 

“I didn’t know you were going to have a guest!” Chanyeol defends, wisely slipping his _bare ass_ off the counter so that the island blocks his lower half. “If I knew, I obviously wouldn’t have my balls out,” he continues. Baekhyun sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, while Minseok merely mumbles that she hopes someone wipes down the counter.

That brings a laugh bubbling out of everyone as Chanyeol reaches over for a kitchen-safe cleaning agent and paper towels, bowl of cereal still clutched in one of his massive hands. 

“Anyways,” Baekhyun redirects, setting her purse down on one of the barstools, “this is Minseok, I don’t think you two met?”

Chanyeol shakes his head. “Nah—I haven’t been around since your last party,” he explains. “Yifan had schedules that kept him out of town, and it’s not like you were calling me in for any ritu- anything,” he continues, stuttering towards the end of his sentence and glancing over at Baekhyun.

Minseok follows his gaze, curious to see what he sees in Baekhyun. The woman’s face gives nothing away, though, and Minseok is left to wonder what her impassive stare communicated to the boy. 

“This is Chanyeol,” Baekhyun finally introduces, even though Minseok’s known who he is for a while now. “He’s a friend of Yifan’s,” she continues. 

Which sets off bells in Minseok’s head—Yifan had described him as an old friend of Baekhyun’s. Minseok’s curious as to why the woman’s put distance between their relationship, shuttled it to her husband instead.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Minseok says, bowing slightly, grinning when Chanyeol clumsily does the same, spilling the milk in his bowl. He groans and Baekhyun snorts, taking Minseok by the hand and leading her into the lounge. She listens to the pad of Chanyeol's footsteps as he darts upstairs.

“Here’s the WIFI password and the T.V. remote,” Baekhyun says, pointing to a notepad and remote sat on the coffee table. “I really would love to stay up and hang out, but I have trouble sleeping on flights and I don’t want to be a zombie for tonight. Feel free to go outside and explore or go nap in the guest room, I just need a little sleep before tonight,” she says apologetically.

“Oh no, that’s absolutely fine, go get some sleep!” Minseok says, “I’ll be fine on my own!” Baekhyun visibly relaxes at that.

“That’s good, uh, Chanyeol’s around if you want someone to show you around the property—I think he just ran upstairs to put some clothes on, so he’s available and all,” she rambles. Minseok smiles at her, tries to put her at ease, and finally Baekhyun seems to take the hint, excusing herself and disappearing up the stairs.

Chanyeol reappears a few minutes later, now dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie that swallows his frame (despite how overwhelmingly _large_ he is in every aspect). “I know Baekhyun told you I’d be hanging around, but I actually have a class soon, so I’m going to head out soon. I can keep you company for a little bit, but after that, you’ve got the place to yourself,” he says sheepishly.

“You’re still in school?” Minseok asks. It’s not hard to believe, Chanyeol looks pretty young, but she knows he went to school with Baekhyun and that was like five years ago.

“I had to drop out for a while because of some financial issues,” he explains, “I’m only just going back. I’m majoring in music production.” He pauses awkwardly, then comes to sit on the couch near Minseok, “So, when did you and Baekhyun get to be such good friends?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say we’re especially close. We just… I guess we’re good company for one another. She’s helping me get experience for my novel,” Minseok explains. 

“Oh, nice. I was just wondering since it’s not often that Baekhyun brings around people she’s not already really familiar with. I mean, unless she’s _interested_ in them,” Chanyeol says it so simply, as if it isn’t a bombshell. Minseok’s had her suspicions about Baekhyun, especially after reading about her rumored relationship with Kim Taeyeon, but she’s never had it confirmed. Even now, she’s not quite sure if that’s the case.

“Ah, I don’t know if she’s _interested_ in me. I mean, isn’t she… ah, m-married?” She stutters, smoothing her hands down her thighs nervously.

Chanyeol blinks dumbly, “ _Oh_. She didn’t tell you? Oh gosh. I thought it was obvious she was into you?”

“Oh no, I don’t really… doubt that,” Minseok smooths over, “I’ve thought she was flirty too, but I… I thought she was off-limits. I’m…” her voice trails off.

Chanyeol hums understandingly, “Well, if you’re interested in her, I say go for her. Yifan won’t mind. I _promise_.” The way he says it gives Minseok the sneaking suspicion that Chanyeol’s Yifan’s secret, little interest. “But, keep it between us. It’s not good to go about lambasting people’s secrets, right?”

 _Ha_ , tell that to the reporter. Of course. Minseok nods, agreeing, trying and failing to keep a blush from rising on her cheeks.

Chanyeol slaps his thighs, “anyways, like I said, class soon. Have fun at the party later! I don’t know if I’ll see you again today, so,” he gives her a little wave, then disappears down the hall. A few seconds later, Minseok can hear the jingle of keys and the opening and closing of the front door, the turn of the lock.

Minseok’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Baekhyun’s supposedly asleep upstairs and Chanyeol’s just confirmed that no one else is in the house. She doesn’t know when Yifan might be back (if he is even coming back later at all), nor does she know how heavy or light a sleeper Baekhyun is, but she does know that the house is available for her to snoop around. _Hell,_ Baekhyun had even invited her to do so.

So she gets up, making her way immediately to the second floor. This time, she’s pleased to see that the door that had been locked last time is open this time. It’s a bedroom, a guest bedroom. She deflates, having expected something more. She has no idea why it was locked last time, but judging by the pristine condition of the room, that it had since been cleaned, judged mundane enough not to raise any suspicion. Still, she looks around, opening various drawers and closets. 

It’s almost perfectly normal. _Almost._

The only thing that’s off is the shattered vanity mirror. She walks up to it, ready to inspect it, curious if it reveals any clues as to how it was broken. She thumbs along the edge of one of the cracks, gentle as can be.

She’s surprised when the glass cuts her finger, gasping softly and retracting her hand with a wince. A bead of blood drops onto the mirror. She curses, feeling dumb for cutting herself so easily—anyone knows not to play with broken glass.

Except, something feels wrong. She looks down at her thumb, eyes widening as her blood runs black. _What the fuck?_ She wonders, horror coursing through her veins. She pulls her thumb up to her mouth, sucking at the wound. Her eyes flit back to the mirror and she startles backwards, blood running cold. 

Her reflection isn’t right. It stares back at her, oddly reserved, perfectly still—not her reflection after all. Except that it looks like her. _Just_ like her, clothes, face, eyes, hair. Everything is _her._ And yet, it’s not, because it’s obviously not copying her movements.

“What the fuck?” She says aloud this time, staring at the mirror, refusing to take her eyes off the figure staring back at her. She blinks.

In the millisecond her eyes had been closed, her reflection had moved closer, as if it is just shy of pressing its face against the glass of the mirror. The broken pieces fracture the reflection’s skin, cut her up and make her look disjointed, false. Still, Minseok can easily see the reflection’s mouth curl up into a smile. 

It breathes against the glass, fogging the mirror, then brings a hand up and traces out a series of characters in the condensation. **_WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?_** It reads. The words disappear and the reflection breathes against the mirror again, writing out a new phrase. **_WHY ARE YOU AFRAID?_**

_Fuck._ Minseok steps up to the mirror, figuring the reflection cannot crawl out into her realm. Even though she’s terrified, she’s also disbelieving. Half of her thinks she’s dreaming. The other half is scarily aware of just what’s going on—just how real it actually is. “I’m not looking for anything,” she lies. “I’m not afraid.”

Her reflections laughs soundlessly, then mouths, **_YOU’RE LYING_.** Minseok shakes her head, eyes narrowed. She is, but why should she explain herself? **_COME CLOSER_** the reflection beckons, curling her fingers in invitation. Minseok can do little except step forward, drawn in by her utter disbelief in the entire situation. The reflection waits until her face comes close, then slams her hand against the mirror.

The mirror shatters further, the loud cracks echoing into the room. Minseok gasps, startling backwards, away from the mirror, tripping and falling onto the floor as she does so. She groans at the impact, then slowly gets up to her feet, immediately looking to the mirror. Her reflection is far more distorted now, but it’s actually her reflection this time, mimicking all of her movements. 

She deliberates what to do. She could take a picture of the mirror, but it’s not like its evidence of anything that happened—she could have just broken it herself. Additionally, it’s not like she can tell Baekhyun about it. She’s sure it would arouse suspicion.

So, she does the wisest thing. She leaves the room, keeping the experience in mind as she explores the rest of the house.

She’s not able to find anything else of note, and the rest of the mirrors in the house appear to be working perfectly fine. She returns to the lounge, laying down on the couch, letting her eyes slip closed until later.

***

Baekhyun helps her with her makeup, going for a glam look, then helps her pull her hair back stylishly, taming all the flyaways as she does so. Then, Baekhyun gets herself ready, and drives them both to the party.

They’re greeted at the door by a sharply-dressed man. “Who’s this?” He asks, peering at Minseok curiously.

“Heechul, this is Minseok, she’s a friend of mine,” Baekhyun introduces them. Heechul scans Minseok up and down, but his gaze isn’t particularly objectifying nor judging, so Minseok doesn’t find herself blushing with nerves. He very simply seems to be taking her in, committing her to memory. Then he lets them through the door. "Sungnim's in the kitchen," he tells Baekhyun. But she only waves him off. 

Minseok’s not really prepared for the glitz that a “small get-together” would entail. Baekhyun flits about like a butterfly, greeting people and jumping through various conversations. Minseok, though, just tails her around as best she can, keeping her eyes ever so slightly downcast, never feeling so out of her element as she does now.

“And this is my friend Minseok,” Baekhyun finally says, pulling Minseok out of her reverie. She scans the group Baekhyun’s speaking to. There’s idol Kim Kibum, and then a few other actresses and actors that Minseok knows by face, but not by name. “She’s writing a novel about a celebrity romance, so I’m giving her a taste of some of our parties! For inspiration of course,” Baekhyun explains.

Minseok smiles, greets the group warmly, and answers the few polite questions thrown her way. Still, it’s quite obvious she doesn’t fit in with this crew. It leads to her excusing herself from the conversation and wandering off to the kitchen. There’s wine and champagne set out, but Minseok’s not really in the mood. She opens the fridge, scanning the shelves, _aha_ -ing when she sees a familiar can of beer. 

She chugs the first can of liquid courage and then grabs a second to actually nurse, waiting for her head to settle into the hazy buzz. She worries that she’s not going to be able to really follow things, but she’s pretty sure that this crowd isn’t Baekhyun’s cult crowd. More of an auxiliary crew that Baekhyun involves herself in. The people she has to have connections with in order to keep her name at the top of her industry.

Baekhyun finds her about half an hour later curled into the arm of a couch. She’s befriended a sweet boy, Wong Yukhei, a rising idol, and has spent the last few minutes simply chatting with him about himself, about Baekhyun. “There you are,” Baekhyun says, loudly enough that both of them jump. She slips in between Yukhei and Minseok, nuzzling up against Minseok’s side.

It’s a very new type of affection. Baekhyun’s always been touchy with Minseok (since she met her, really) but this is a new level. Minseok’s cheeks heat as she looks back up, meeting Yukhei’s eyes apologetically. The boy doesn’t seem to be paying attention, enthralled as he is with the newcomer. Baekhyun dominates the new conversation, but Minseok finds she doesn’t mind. Having someone else talk means she can stay quiet and observe. 

She’s not surprised that when it comes time to leave, Yukhei follows them to the door to see them off. Baekhyun disappears to fetch the car, leaving Minseok and him alone. 

“She invited me to dinner. I told her I’d check my schedule, but if you’re into her, I’ll back off,” he says kindly.

“Mm-hmm. I don't think it much matters if I'm into her. She _is_ married,” Minseok drawls, watching Baekhyun’s car roll up in the silence that follows. 

Yukhei doesn’t seem to have anything to say to that, but when Baekhyun’s phone _dings_ in the car, it lights up with a text from him—a refusal. Minseok’s glad. She’s worried about what Baekhyun’s motives would have been with the boy, because there’s almost no chance that they’d have been good.

Baekhyun pulls up outside of Minseok’s apartment building, seems ready to leave, then realizes Minseok is a lot more unsteady than she would like. She helps support Minseok all the way up the stairs onto her second floor apartment landing, but seems surprised when Minseok tugs her inside, all the way into her bed.

“Just sleep here tonight,” Minseok mumbles, tucking her face into one of her pillows. Baekhyun stares at the ceiling for a moment, then she relaxes and goes to sleep.

They wake up sometime in the middle of the night. It’s Baekhyun that moves first, who gets up and starts to look around for Minseok’s bathroom. She finds it and turns on the light, then the tap, wetting a washcloth and wiping her makeup off. Minseok joins her a few minutes later, blinking blearily.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were such a light sleeper,” Baekhyun says, meeting Minseok’s gaze in the mirror. 

Minseok’s reminded of her mirror ordeal earlier in the day, finds the hair raising on the back of her neck at the memory. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, wetting another washcloth for her own face. 

She washes away foundation, concealer, mascara, eye shadow. However, she’s not embarrassed when she washes all the makeup away, even next to Baekhyun (who is lauded for her beauty both with and without makeup). In fact, she feels like they compliment one another, both of them remarkably pretty. The only difference between them is the glow Baekhyun’s able to achieve as a result of having the money to spend on the best products, the best surgeons. Other than that, they are both equally stunning.

Baekhyun mentions this. “I almost feel like you suit having no makeup better than having it. You’ve got this natural beauty that makes you look younger than you are,” she says, “and even though you don’t have smile wrinkles, you still have a sweet face? If that makes sense?” Baekhyun pulls at her own face, smoothing out the few lines that do appear, massaging in one of Minseok’s moisturizers. “I feel like people like me, stars, we all look fake. I think part of it is just stereotyping, but I mean. How many of us are so concerned with looking perfect that we lose a little bit of our humanity? Imperfection is very human, and all of us are afraid of that.”

“Are you really afraid of imperfection?”

“Perhaps not afraid. Wary would be a better word. I like to succeed, to win, to overcome. I think that in order to win, to rule, there has to be a degree of perfection. Even if it is only a face. There has to be something for the _others_ to cling to. The masquerade.” 

Minseok doesn’t have much to say to that. Really, she can’t say she agrees nor disagrees. There’s something attractive about celebrities, and she’s sure most of it is simply that elevated factor of perfection. It’s so unattainable to people like Minseok that the fantasy is always on their mind. There’s a romance in attaining wealth, love, and happiness. But now that Minseok’s been exposed to this wealthy side of the world, she’s not sure she believes that it’s all that happy. There’s a corruption in this lifestyle. A sickness to it. 

She washes off her face and leads Baekhyun back to the bed. 

They continue like this every few weeks. Baekhyun invites her out to have an _experience_ for her novel, and Minseok comes along because even though she’s not learning anything for her story, she is getting to know Baekhyun and to gain her trust. Which is why it’s only a matter of time before they start dancing around one another, when Minseok begins to really question whether Baekhyun’s just being friendly, or whether she’s actually _flirting_.

The question all comes to a head when Baekhyun crashes at her apartment another night. They don’t go out anywhere before hand, but Baekhyun texts Minseok to tell her that she’s in the area and Minseok just invites her on auto-pilot.

They sit around and eat microwavable ramen while watching whatever variety show happened to be airing at the time. Minseok’s just shoveled a clump of noodles into her mouth when she catches Baekhyun’s eye. “You’ve got something on your chin,” Baekhyun murmurs, leaning forward and wiping the salty broth off with her thumb. They stare at each other.

“I’m not kissing you with a cup of ramen in hand,” Minseok blurts. Baekhyun gasps, then barks in laughter, her voice rolling up and out of her chest. She has to set her cup down on the coffee table just to keep from spilling it.

“I won’t kiss you unless you ask!” Baekhyun teases, blowing her a playful kiss. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.” 

Minseok pauses, her eyes wide. Then she remembers her mother. She’d never be able to look her in the eyes if she hooked up with Baekhyun. She’s already felt that guilt once, she doesn’t really want to deal with it again. Baekhyun seems to notice Minseok’s predicament and she hums out some comment about one of the guests on screen.

Minseok gladly takes the out, laughing along with whatever joke Baekyun had made. 

The rest of the night is uneventful, as if nothing awkward had ever happened.

***

Minseok doesn’t notice that Baekhyun’s left her rings on the counter until she’s getting ready to head out and see Kyungsoo and Jongin. She picks up the pretty diamond ring (Baekhyun’s wedding ring) as well as the four more crystalline rings. They look to be ruby and opal stones in most of them, pretty stones that catch the light in a dazzling sort of way. There's also a copper snake ring with a dark green stone set into it. It has an inscription, but Minseok doesn't take the time to read it right now. It doesn't seem important. 

She pockets the rings. She’ll go bring them over to Baekhyun’s after visiting Kyungsoo and Jongin. Jongin’s place is close enough to a station that it won’t be all that far out of the way and now that Minseok knows Baekhyun’s gate code, it’ll be easy enough to just go drop them off. She’s sure Baekhyun’s going to want them back. The press would probably have a field day if they noticed her wedding ring missing again—Baekhyun was just complaining about a tabloid running a front page about her and Yifan’s “failing marriage.”

She gets onto the train about half an hour later, arriving at Jongin’s in just about the same amount of time. She’s greeted warmly. No one asks her about her case, just about how she’s handling the coming holiday season, if she’ll be around to celebrate Christmas with them, if she wants them to come hang out at the assisted living home so that she doesn’t have to be away from her mother. 

“You seem a little distracted,” Jongin mentions at some point during the night. “Have you found someone?”

_No. Well… yes, technically._ But she doesn’t like the answer and she’s more than sure that Jongin wouldn’t either. She shouldn’t mix work and pleasure in the first place, she _really_ shouldn’t get attached to the person she’s investigating. 

“No, not really. I’m just thinking it might be time for me _to_ find someone,” she lies. She’s not looking for anyone, she just… happened upon Baekhyun. She doesn’t want to _go_ looking for someone right now, not when money is so tight and when she’s so worried about her mother’s well-being.

Jongin lets her off the hook, redirecting the conversation to what he should get Kyungsoo—who had just left to pick up some ingredients they had forgotten on their first trip to the store—for the coming holiday. 

“He’d probably like a photo-book. He loves your work, Jongin,” Minseok says after they shoot down multiple other suggestions. “Honestly, he would probably be content with a cuddle and a bit of loving, if you know what I mean,” she makes a lewd gesture with her hand, causing Jongin to splutter and blush.

It’s at that moment that Kyungsoo returns. “Are we embarrassing Jongin or something?” he asks, noticing the heat in Jongin’s cheeks and eyeing him curiously. 

“Only a little,” Minseok says. 

Kyungsoo chuckles, putting the ingredients down on the counter and taking over the stove again. The night returns to jokes and play fights between the three of them before they finally eat, then begin to settle down. They put on a movie (over which all of them keep a running commentary) until it’s late enough that Minseok better start heading out if she’s going to make the train.

Then she remembers Baekhyun’s rings in her pocket and realizes the trains will probably have stopped running by the time she gets back to the station after walking to Baekhyun’s house and back.

Still, she’s not _worried_. Baekhyun’s stayed over at her place enough, and she at Baekhyun’s that she’s fairly certain Baekhyun can make room for her for the night. Besides, she’ll probably be glad to have her rings back—she’d been telling Minseok about an early schedule she had soon. She’ll be photographed on her way to it, and at it, so Minseok wants to make sure she doesn’t get any bad press.

Especially when she doesn’t seem to deserve it.

She bids the couple goodbye and lets herself out into the cold, shoving her hands into her coat pockets. She thumbs the rings in her pocket as she takes the turn away from the station, out towards Baekhyun’s house. It’s about a thirty minute walk from Jongin’s, but she should be fine. Jongin lives in a relatively safe neighborhood, and what with it being so cold, it’s not likely people are going to be loitering around.

Her boots crunch in the fallen leaves along the sidewalk, then in the gravel beside the roads as she walks farther outside the city. Eventually, she nears the fence of Baekhyun’s family estate. It’s another ten minutes before she reaches the car and pedestrian gates, where she punches in the gate code and lets herself onto the estate grounds. 

She walks down the long driveway, spying Baekhyun’s car (but not Yifan’s) as she does so. She’s glad Baekhyun’s home. She’s also a little relieved Yifan isn’t. She’s still a little awkward around Baekhyun’s husband. She doesn’t have a good read on him.

She knocks on the front door. There’s no response, which is a little strange. Minseok tries the door, but it’s locked. She groans a little, stamping her feet on the mat while she thinks of an alternative plan. She could wait on the porch for someone to inevitably show up (but then again, Baekhyun might be on a schedule right now, and have just left her car at home, and Yifan isn’t necessarily going to show up, either, given his busy schedule). She’s ready to admit defeat, put the rings out on the porch, when she hears the barest hint of a noise.

She holds her breath, listening intently for the same sound.

_There!_

It’s the swell of a song, she’s almost sure of it. Minseok turns towards the woods. That’s where it seems to be coming from. She walks back down the stairs, bundling herself up in her coat, and walks out into the forest, wary of thorns and branches. As she walks, the song grows louder. It’s more like a chant, and multiple people are singing it.

Minseok begins to lose her courage the longer she walks, because the longer she does the closer it comes to sounding like a ritual.

Eventually, she comes across the orange glow of a fire. She picks her way through the trees much more carefully now, wariness seeping from each of her steps. 

She peers through a gap in the trees. Baekhyun is holding something high above her head, almost _offering_ it towards the flames. She cocks her head, creeps closer. However, it isn’t until a bolt of lightning lights up the entire clearing that she realizes what it is.

It’s a severed head. 

There’s no question about it and the revelation has Minseok reeling backwards, hand clapped to her mouth. 

A twig snaps beneath her heel.

Time slows, the roar of the fire becoming a mere whisper as she quickly crouches low, breath stopping in fear. She’s lucky though—the cultists’ song appears to have absorbed the sound. She lets out a breath, ignoring the thorns wrapped around her ankles and scraping along her arms. 

The cultists’ worship continues, Baekhyun leading the chant, her thin, delicate fingers twisted in the severed head’s locks, holding it aloft. Minseok gags and averts her gaze. She’s _shocked_. The other women and men don’t appear fazed in the slightest, continuing their uproarious dance around the climbing flames, seemingly possessed in their movements.

The song lulls, Baekhyun addresses the sky in a language Minseok could not even hope to decipher, and then, she casts the head into the flames. The song immediately crests, each of the cultists’ voices rising to accommodate the climax of the ritual. And the fire burns bright, turning white as it consumes the sacrifice. It pops, crackles, and shoots higher into the sky. A column of lightning spears down, the sound of thunder rattling Minseok’s bones a minute later.

Without a doubt, there is something supernatural about this ritual. _Something_ has changed. Baekhyun seems to know this as well, for she raises her hands and laughs, a clear, bright sound, but unbelonging in its context. It’s the laughter that shakes Minseok out of her horrified reverie and has her stumbling away from her hiding place. She only makes it a few feet before she looks up and feels her blood run cold.

Another pair of eyes stares back at her, looking similarly horrified. 

Minseok falls to her knees, ready to beg, “Please…”

Chanyeol’s face—almost impossibly—intensifies in its terror. He reaches out and grabs her by the arm, dragging her up from her knees and deeper into the woods, away from the sacrificial scene. She’s trembling violently. Even though it seems Chanyeol is friend, not foe, she cannot calm her breathing or bring her rationality back to mind. In that moment, she could have easily been shoved out of hiding, towards the fire, towards a woman who clearly had no qualms murdering.

Her lips quiver, her body crashes through the foliage clumsily, and all the while, Chanyeol simply pulls her along, never pausing. There’s a surety in his steps that suggests he’s walked this path many times before. It’s then that Minseok realizes he’s very naked, much like the dancing cult members had been.

Again, her mind reels, but she’s powerless at this point. She has to trust Chanyeol.

They break free of the woods and before Minseok can even process her whereabouts, she’s being dragged up the stairs into Baekhyun’s family manor. Her legs feel useless, sending her lurching behind Chanyeol belatedly. 

She slips on the fifth step from the top, her knees connecting with the marble painfully. A beat later, her head cracks against the second step from the top. Her vision swims, fuzziness creeping along the edges. 

She dully recognizes the crack of another set of knees and a subsequent curse. She must have brought Chanyeol down with her. Still, he finds his feet quickly and slides his arms up under hers, hauling her up the rest of the stairs. He shifts her weight in his arms, keeping just one wrapped around her torso, and reaches to bang loudly on the door.

It swings open a minute later. “Yifan, please, we-” Chanyeol trails off, dragging Minseok over the threshold and shouldering Yifan out of the way. “Oh god, this is a lot of blood,” Chanyeol exclaims after a beat, pulling his hand away from Minseok’s head to see it sticky with crimson. There’s also blood smeared on his chest, Minseok thinks idly. She feels like she’s underwater, everything slightly delayed, slightly distorted.

Another pair of arms wraps around her body, picking her up and cradling her to their chest. Yifan walks in then, snapping for Chanyeol to grab a first aid kit from the cabinet in the guest bathroom. While Chanyeol disappears to follow his direction, Yifan carries her up the stairs, taking them two at a time, only huffing a little bit with the effort it requires.

Pain rolls over her in waves, radiating down her neck and back, up into her eyes, ears, and jaw. She feels like she’s on fire. She’s stripped of her clothes, but she has no room to protest, not when a beat later, she’s submerged in a tub of warm water. Yifan keeps his hand beneath her neck, supporting her head and keeping her from slipping underwater entirely. 

For a moment, there is only silence. Then, panting as Chanyeol rejoins them. He dumps the first aid kit on the ledge next to the bath, flipping it open. “Go grab a washcloth,” Yifan directs. Chanyeol nods, disappearing for a moment and then reappearing with a pretty lilac cloth clutched in hand. He hands it over to Yifan.

The man wets it, then cards his fingers through Minseok’s hair, flipping it to clear a path to the gash in the side of her head. He passes the cloth over it gently, blinking as Minseok jerks and gasps, the pain searing. Still, he doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied with the wound’s appearance. Then, he sits her up in the tub and grabs some gauze. “Hold it in place,” he directs Chanyeol. Then, he wraps her head with a bandage, securing it just tightly enough to keep the gauze in place, but loose enough that it doesn’t cause her too much discomfort where he’s looped it beneath her jaw. They clean her cut knees just the same, washing away the blood and wrapping her wounds carefully.

Then the two men hoist her back out of the tub and sit her on the plush bathroom carpet. For a moment, she’s concerned about her nudity, but in the next she decides she doesn’t care. There are much bigger problems to worry about, firstly that Chanyeol is a cultist—why else would he be going to the fire—and secondly that Yifan _has_ to know about the cult’s activities. She whimpers at the thought, her vision swimming again, shivers wracking her frame. 

Chanyeol places a soothing hand on her shoulder. Yifan gets up and disappears. In the meantime, Chanyeol does what he can to talk her out of her panic, actually attempting to guide her breathing, encouraging her to count to ten and back. 

It works, her breathing eventually evening out again. She’s still afraid though, still nervous.

“Your head gash is way too obvious for you to stay here. Does Baekhyun know you’re here?”

Minseok shakes her head, “I came to return the rings she left at my apartment. It didn’t look like anyone was at the manor, but I could hear singing, so I…” she trails off, her mouth feeling like it’s filled with cotton. Chanyeol picks up Minseok’s coat and fishes the rings out, setting them on the floor.

“Okay, that’s good. Yifan-”

“I can bring her home,” Yifan confirms as he reenters the room, a silky nightgown held in hand. He slips it over her head. “You need to get out there, Chanyeol, otherwise she’s going to ask questions.” He wraps her coat around her shoulders.

Chanyeol’s eyes widen, then he nods, letting out a breath. “You’re going to get her home safely, right?”

Yifan nods seriously, passing Chanyeol Minseok’s torn, bloodied clothes. “Make sure these are thrown away,” he directs. Then, he watches as Chanyeol hurries out of the room, leaving he and Minseok alone.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he comments as he helps her to her feet. “You’ve put Chanyeol in a dangerous situation,” he continues in a murmur, leading her out of the house and into the cold winter air. 

She ends up defrosting in the passenger seat of his car, her lips quivering from shock _and_ the cold. “I don’t know what you saw, Kim Minseok, but I do know one thing,” he says finally, “it’s best if you keep whatever revelations you’ve had to yourself, otherwise, there will be consequences.”

He continues, “Chanyeol wants me to keep this quiet from Baekhyun. I’ll do so… for now. Please don’t make me regret his kindness.” The rest of the car ride passes in silence. Yifan drops her off outside her apartment. 

He doesn’t wait to see if she makes it inside.

***

“Please pick up, please pick u-”

She hears rustling over the receiver, prompting her to suck in a breath of relief. Kyungsoo’s voice crackles over the phone, asking what’s wrong. “I need to go to a doctor and none of the trains are running. Can you pick me up and bring me to an urgent care,” she pauses, “I have money to pay, I just… I can’t walk. I’m too dizzy,” she explains.

She has to say little more before Kyungsoo’s agreeing, telling her he’ll be right there. She thanks him profusely, then hangs up the phone, tossing it into the bed beside her. And then, she cries. Cries because there is no way in _hell_ that Baekhyun wasn’t involved in the four disappearances. Cries because stunning, perfect, sweet Baekhyun is a _monster._

She loses track of time—it all seems to blur together—her head throbbing, her tears soaking her pillow. Then, a knock at her door, and she staggers upright and over to the door, swinging it open without second thought.

Kyungsoo stands at the doorway, Jongin beside him. They both gasp at her appearance, then walk into her apartment, “Can you put on a shirt and pants before we go?” Kyungsoo asks, ever practical. Followed by Jongin’s soft, “How did this happen?”

She looks down at herself, at the silky pink nightgown. It’s practically see-through, which is probably why Kyungsoo suggested she at least throw something over it. 

“It’s also cold outside,” he says softly, just so she knows he’s not ashamed of her body, just wanting her to be as comfortable as possible. She nods gratefully in understanding, and goes to do as he asked.

When she’s dressed, she returns to the front room, swaying. Jongin takes her by the arm and steps close, his body pressed up against her for support. “How’d this happen, Min?” He asks again, concern bleeding from his tone.

“The rumors are true,” she says simply, still dazed. Both Jongin and Kyungsoo’s eyes widen in a mix of shock and confusion. Minseok furrows her brow, bringing a hand up to her head, just lightly brushing past the bandages. Still, it sends pain throbbing down her body, and she groans again. 

Her friends don’t ask any more questions for the time being. They hurry her out to Kyungsoo’s car (because it’s cleaner) and bundle her into the backseat. Jongin chooses to sit beside her, just in case her condition worsens. Kyungsoo slips into the driver’s seat and hits the gas.

In no time, they’re arriving at an Urgent Care. Minseok is sat down in the waiting room, Jongin next to her, while Kyungsoo goes to sign her in and fetch the paperwork she needs to fill out. Now time seems to slow, the clock ticking idly as Minseok fills out her information and hands it back to Kyungsoo to turn in. She doesn’t notice him using his card to pay for the visit.

“Kim Minseok,” A nurse calls eventually.

Minseok gets up, swaying again, nearly falling, and immediately Jongin and Kyungsoo are at her side, stabilizing her. After a moment, Minseok brushes them off and walks behind the nurse into an examination room. Her friends follow without Minseok’s asking, but she finds that she doesn’t care. They obviously just want to see that she’s being taken care of.

“What happened?” the nurse starts with, undoing the bandages and looking at the gash lacing the side of Minseok’s head. 

“I fell going up some stairs,” Minseok mumbles quietly.

“Going up? You must have been in a rush, there are railings for a reason.” 

“It was more of a promenade staircase than the traditional kind, but yes, I was in a rush,” Minseok explains, tone curt. The nurse raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything more, turning away to grab the supplies needed to clean the wound. “I’ll call in the doctor and we’ll check for signs you had a concussion, but you seem pretty coherent, so I think you got lucky.”

“Thanks,” Kyungsoo says, smiling pleasantly, “we were just worried.” 

The nurse seems to brighten in the face of his cheerier disposition, and smiles back before leaving to fetch her superior.

***

“Falling up the stairs?” Kyungsoo asks once they’re in the car, at the same time as Jongin asks, “What were you running from?”

Minseok sighs, silent for several minutes, then, “Baekhyun left some of her rings at my apartment the other day. I went to go return them after visiting you guys since you are the closest to her house anyways.”

“You two have a habit of leaving your rings places,” Kyungsoo comments. 

Minseok glares at him, both for the comment and for interrupting, and returns to what she was saying. 

“It’s only like a twenty-five minute walk from the station back to her estate, and since I knew the gate code to get in, I figured I may as well just walk in and bring them back to her. Her car was back in the driveway, so I figured she had come back home, but no one answered the door when I knocked. I was about to leave, but then I saw some light and heard some noise out around the woods.” 

She pauses now, her heart stuttering as she recalls the next scenes of the night. “I went to check it out, it was probably another ten minute walk? Baekhyun was there, so were… other people…” She trails off.

Jongin seems to sense that there’s something more to the story. He reaches over and squeezes her hand.

Minseok can’t help it when her voice chokes up this time, her heart squeezing tight with fear—with shame that she could have been affectionate towards someone like Baekhyun. “She was—she was holding a severed head,” she says in one quick breath.

Jongin stiffens. Kyungsoo’s eyes flick over to hers through the rearview mirror. 

Minseok feels numb. “She was holding a severed head and I was so shocked, I made a noise.” 

Silence. She could cut the tension in the car with a knife. 

“I thought she was going to hear me, that she was going to hurt me if she found out.”

“But?”

“I turned around and Chanyeol was there—I don’t think you’ve ever met him—and I thought _he_ was going to turn me into her, but he helped me get back to the house. He was as scared as I was, I think. He and Yifan bandaged me up and then Yifan drove me home.” 

All of it comes out in a rush now that she’s talking about it. “He said they wouldn’t tell her unless they thought I was going to turn her in. Yifan’s protecting both of them, Baekhyun and Chanyeol.”

“They’re both in the cult?”

“Yeah. I’m worried about Chanyeol, he was late to the ritual because of me. I don’t know if he’ll get punished or not.”

“Don’t worry about him right now, we’re more concerned about you,” Kyungsoo says. “Do you feel safe at home?”

Does she? Not really. Both Yifan and Baekhyun know where she lives. Minutely, she shakes her head. 

Kyungsoo curses. “Stay with us for a while then, do you have any proof of the cult? We can turn it in and you can get witness protection, or something, right?” 

She doesn’t have any tangible proof. Again, she shakes her head. “Other than what I saw, I don’t have anything.”

“Could you tell them where to find the… head?” Jongin whispers.

She shakes her head again, “She threw it into the fire.” It makes her sick to think about. It makes her even sicker to think that there might not be any way Minseok can expose her. The other two notice her distress and instantly begin to soothe her.

“We’ll just go home tonight and deal with the rest in the morning, okay?” 

Minseok’s not sure she really has a choice, but she nods anyway.

***

They don’t talk about it in the morning. Actually, they don’t talk about it at all until a week later, when Minseok’s recording everything in her laptop and her phone dings with a text notification.

Everyone looks at the phone. 

Jongin’s sat in their office today—he had just brought them lunch. “Who is it?” he asks, mouth full of food. 

Minseok shakes her head and pulls the phone closer to her. She can’t help but feel a flash of anxiety when she opens it to see Baekhyun’s name. 

“Baekhyun,” she answers quietly, voice dull. 

Kyungsoo leans over and takes her phone from her hands. Minseok can’t bring herself to complain. “She’s thanking you for returning her rings. That Yifan mentioned you had dropped them off the other day,” he reads. “She’s also asking if you would want to go to dinner and then back to hers tonight.”

Kyungsoo returns her phone, shaking his head as he does so. Minseok stares at the texts a beat too long, thumb hovering over the digital keyboard.

“Minseok, it’s not a good idea. She’s a murderer.”

“I don’t have any solid proof yet though. We can’t do anything without proof. My account isn’t going to hold up, especially since I wasn’t supposed to even be there,” she reasons. “I… I don’t feel unsafe around her, just a little nervous. She hasn’t acted out of sort to _me_ at all. She’s pleasant,” she whispers, “besides, Yifan obviously hasn’t told her anything.”

“The girls that disappeared all thought they were her friends, who’s to say that’s not going to be you, Min!” Kyungsoo says, echoing Jongin’s sentiments.

She types out and sends her text before the others can stop her, then leans back. “I promise I’ll call if I ever feel unsafe. Hell, I’ll write and sign a testament now—if I go missing, show up dead, it was her.”

Kyungsoo stares at her. Jongin too. Then Kyungsoo sighs. “I want you to say that on video as well as the signed paper if you’re really going to go back to her.”

“That’s precaution for after her death,” Jongin protests, eyes wide. “That’s not a preventative measure! That’s just ensuring we find out _what_ happens to her!” 

Kyungsoo sets his mouth in a firm line, but doesn’t refute Jongin. Minseok records herself, sends the video to Kyungsoo, signs her testament, passes it over.

It won’t be enough to withstand Baekhyun’s attorneys should she ever be brought to court, but it gives enough credibility to the rumors about her that Baekhyun will have to force her activities deep underground for fear of full exposure. Hopefully, it would help others to avoid her whims. 

She doesn’t feel stupid for distrusting Baekhyun anymore. If anything, this is the most sure she’s ever been of herself. The woman is evil in a different sense, a righteous sense. She’s clever and put together. She’s charming. She’s devilish.

And Minseok hates how easily she relaxes once she and Baekhyun begin talking over dinner. It’s so easy to fall back into routine with Baekhyun that she almost forgets _what_ had transpired the last time she saw the actress.

She doesn’t remember until they’re back at Baekhyun’s house, when Baekhyun turns to her and gasps. “What happened to your head, Min?!” She reaches forward questioningly, brushing Minseok’s hair out of the way. “I didn’t see this in the dark,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb just under the wound, eyes searching Minseok’s face for any sign of pain.

The area is tender still, but it’s no longer searing with pain. “I fell on the stairs back at my building, but it’s okay! I went to a doctor and got it checked out,” she placates. 

Baekhyun cocks her head, worried, then pouts, tutting her tongue, "I'm sad you got hurt. I suppose I'll just have to dote on you, then, hmm?" she teases, drawing Minseok up close. 

Minseok doesn't know what she and Baekhyun are (especially after watching the ritual), but she does know they've been dancing around one another since Baekhyun brought her out to lunch to return her grandmother's ring. There's a degree of familiarity between the two of them. A sense of camaraderie that Minseok hadn't ever expected to find with the other woman. A shared sense of appreciation for one another. Perhaps, a shared wariness of one another. 

"I suppose you'll have to," Minseok finds herself whispering, staring into Baekhyun's eyes.

They hold each other's gazes, wrapped together far too close, to sweetly, to be friends. 

"Can I kiss you?" Baekhyun asks, voice a breadth above the silence.

_She's a murderer._

"Yes," Minseok finds herself saying, her heart thumping wildly in her chest, a mix of anxiety and anticipation. 

As soon as she gives the word, Baekhyun leans forward. Her breath is sharp, reminiscent of the wine they'd shared at dinner. Her lips though, her lips are soft, plush as clouds. Her hand slides up Minseok's back, onto the back of her head, cradling her gently. And for all Minseok knows Baekhyun is, she can't stop herself from kissing back.

She can't even stop herself from enjoying it. It's like the tension between them poured over, resulting in a wave of lust, of excitement. Minseok pulls away, Baekhyun's lips releasing hers slowly, teasingly. 

"I don't do one time things," Minseok finds herself whispering.

Baekhyun regards her for a moment, her soft, sweet self disappearing in the face of something colder, more calculating, more manipulative. Then, it melts back to that softness. 

"I can handle that," she says, leaning forward and capturing Minseok's lips again.

_Murderer_ , her mind wails, _you shouldn't mix feelings into this_! But she can't help herself. She's always envied those with more. She's always been self-indulgent. She's always desired more and more and more.

Something about the kiss tells her Baekhyun is the same way. They clash in a way Minseok has never clashed before. Baekhyun kisses like she wants to break someone. She kisses like she owns them. Like they are pets for her pleasure. She craves power that she doesn't have. Minseok—Minseok kisses so that she's never forgotten. She wants to seep into every waking, every dreaming thought. She wants to haunt her lover.

Which is why she cedes herself to Baekhyun, lets the woman fold her into her embrace. Lets her turn the kisses sloppy, lets her dominate them.

Because Baekhyun will preen when she thinks she has the power, the control. What she doesn't understand is that one can control from behind the scenes. Power that is ceded willingly was not overpowered in the first place—it can always rise and reclaim its place of dominance.

"Please," she whispers, hands finally running up Baekhyun's sides, pulling and tugging at her dress, sliding her hands up into Baekhyun's hair. 

Baekhyun groans, then giggles, bringing a sense of lightness back to the room. "Are we moving too fast?" she mumbles against Minseok's lips, guiding her backwards into the lounge. She pulls Minseok against her, then falls back onto the couch. They land with a soft _whoompf_ , which sets off another round of giggles.

"We've been dancing around one another for a couple of months now, haven't we?" Minseok says, tugging Baekhyun close for another kiss. "Do you think this is too fast?" She pulls back to gaze into Baekhyun's eyes.

Baekhyun blinks, then shakes her head. "Not at all. It's just, you seem like a shy person. I was just wondering if I was too forward."

"If you were too forward, I wouldn't have invited you to kiss me," Minseok reminds her. "I wouldn't be kissing you now," she mumbles, pecking at Baekhyun's lips again.

"Do you want to go farther than this?" Baekhyun hums, content to let Minseok pepper her face with kisses.

"If you do?" Minseok says. She's reminded of the article that first introduced her to Baekhyun's rumors. Remembers how it mentioned tattoos. She wonders if it has any credence. No better way to ask than when they're naked, no?

Baekhyun grin turns sly once more, her body stretching out overtop Minseok's. She directs her lips to Minseok's neck, mouthing along Minseok's jaw, down the tendons and onto her collarbones. Minseok pants, her head leaning back. When Baekhyun returns to her face, she gently flips them, settling onto Baekhyun's hips with a huff.

Baekhyun stares up at her, gaze a little dazed, pupils blown wide with lust. To some degree, there's an anxiety to her features. Minseok's reminded that she craves control. So, Minseok guides her hands onto her thighs, sighs, swivels her hips.

"Tell me what to do," she sighs, leaning down to mouth at Baekhyun's ear lobe. 

"Take off your shirt," Baekhyun finally says, her voice heavy.

Minseok leans back, quirking an eyebrow before undoing the buttons that hold her shirt together. She pulls it up over her body, uncaring of any sensuality. She doesn't even need to tease, Baekhyun already looks at her like she's the center of her universe. The woman slides her fingers up from Minseok’s hips, smoothing up her stomach, then sliding up over her breasts.

She leans up, kisses up the plane of Minseok’s stomach, attaches her lips to Minseok’s tit. “You’re so pretty,” she murmurs, pulling Minseok down against her, biting and sucking at her neck. 

Minseok pants. 

“So mysterious,” Baekhyun teases. 

Minseok quirks a brow, then sits up and reaches forward, unbuttoning the halter top Baekhyun wears. She pulls it out of the way, Baekhyun arching to help her pull it off of her.

Baekhyun rolls her shoulders back, stretches out along the couch. Minseok’s mouth runs dry.

She’s beautiful.

She’s also tattooed—and her tattoos are hardly inconspicuous.

“What a statement piece,” Minseok comments, sliding her fingertips along the black, inky lines. Just beneath her breasts, as if they are holding them up, are a pair of curled horns. The horns attach to a skull. A goat’s skull. The image is framed by different floral imagery, a few scavenger animals like ravens and coyotes, but it is the skull that stands paramount in the piece.

Baekhyun looks at her warily, her eyes glinting half with challenge, half with caution. 

“Why the goat?” Minseok asks, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the crown of the image’s head. Baekhyun’s breath shudders out of her.

The air seems to hang in the balance. “In witchcraft,” she says shakily, “the goat is symbolic of independence, of free-thinking, of exploration. It’s the foil of the sheep—the follower, the naïve fool.” 

Minseok hums, focuses all her willpower on keeping her breathing steady.

Everything hinges on this moment.

“Is that your interest? Witchcraft?” She says, half rhetorical, half not. There is a long quiet, where the only sound is the soft sucking of Minseok’s lips around Baekhyun’s tit, of Baekhyun sighs.

“Would that scare you?” Baekhyun finally asks, sliding her hands into Minseok’s hair, guiding her downwards. Minseok helps her shimmy out of her jeans. 

“Should it?” Minseok counters, kissing Baekhyun’s belly, her hips, her thighs. Baekhyun’s grip tightens in her hair. She props herself up on her elbows, her gaze dark, lusty. Curious too. She doesn’t have that same caution that swirled in her gaze earlier. 

Baekhyun smiles, moaning outright when Minseok teases along her folds, slides two fingers inside of her without caution. Her body shudders, aches. Her excitement is partly born from the physicality of the situation, half from the longing, the desire that she’d long fostered finally being realized. 

“It shouldn’t scare you,” she murmurs, whining when Minseok’s tongue joins her fingers.

Minseok hums, mouthing gently at Baekhyun’s clit, reveling in the way it makes her thighs shake, her breath stutter. “Then, I’ve nothing to worry about, hmm?” she purrs, adding a third finger next to the first two. 

Baekhyun tenses up, breath and voice seemingly leaving her for a long moment. Then, a long sigh. “Never,” she answers. 

Her fingers wrest themselves in Minseok’s hair and tug her back up. Minseok continues to finger her, grinding the palm of her hand against Baekhyun’s clit, swallowing the blonde’s long moans.

Speech dissolves from there. All she can focus on is Baekhyun’s pleasure.

Until Baekhyun unbuttons, unzips, and slides her hand down the front of Minseok’s jeans into her panties, laughing at the gasp Minseok lets out. From then on, it’s simply chasing one another’s highs. 

Baekhyun comes first, her back arching up from the couch, her thighs shaking, her breath stuttering into silence. Her jaw clenches, her eyes flutter open, staring blankly as she allows her orgasm to run waves through her body. Eventually, she relaxes, letting her back fall down onto the cushions. 

She smirks and resumes her movements with Minseok, holding her as she keels forward, breath coming in harsh pants. When Minseok comes, she’s much louder than Baekhyun, letting out a whine as the fuzziness of orgasm begins to cloud over her senses. Baekhyun works her down slowly, kissing at the corner of her lips, her jaw, pulling her down into her embrace, pillowing her head on her breasts. 

“That was fun,” she says eventually. 

Minseok snorts, but doesn’t deny her the thought. For everything glaringly wrong with Baekhyun, her physicality is welcome. However, now, the guilt begins to set in, quiet and unavoidable.

She’s slept with a murderer. A satanist, really.

“I can hear you thinking,” Baekhyun murmurs, carding her fingers through Minseok’s hair, “Stop worrying, I promise I won’t let anyone find out about us.” 

Minseok sighs, relaxing. Baekhyun’s more concerned about the media, thinks that that’s the reason she had tensed up.

“That’s kind of you,” Minseok says, blinking. “Kind that you’re thinking of keeping me safe,” she clarifies. Her heart thuds in her chest. Baekhyun is a dichotomy between affection and cruelty, and Minseok knows that if she hadn’t snooped around, she never would have seen that cruel side of Baekhyun.

Idly, she wonders if that’s how Yifan is. If he simply chooses to see only one side in his wife. If he’s seen her cruelty, but willingly chosen to ignore it for the sake of his heart, his loyalty.

For many minutes, they just lay there, Baekhyun scratching her head and humming a soft tune. Minseok feels her eyes droop, her energy from the day crashing in favor of relaxing. 

Minseok might indulge in Baekhyun’s affection while it is available, but she won’t allow herself to ignore Baekhyun’s crimes forever. 

Minseok wakes up when the moon is still high, alone and covered by a throw-blanket. She looks around, sees no evidence of Baekhyun in the immediate vicinity other than her discarded shirt and pants from earlier. She flips the blanket cover off her legs and sits upright, looking around much more carefully now. She sees nothing amiss, only that it is very cold.

Her breath clouds in front of her. The air bites at her skin, chills her to the bone. It’s an unnatural feeling, especially considering how warm Baekhyun’s house typically is. She drapes the blanket over her shoulders and stands up, shivering when her feet connect with the ice cold floor.

The only way the house could have gotten this cold is if a door or a window was left open somewhere. Her first thought is that it’s the front door, but a glance down the hall reveals it is securely locked, steadfastly closed.

She turns her attention to the back door. This one gapes open, its dark oak wood creaking ever so slightly in the breeze. A few leaves have blown inside the doorway, glinting in the silvery shine of the moonlight. 

The hair on the back of Minseok’s neck stands up. She creeps forward towards the door, placing one foot in front of the other, praying that the wood does not creak.

When she reaches the threshold and looks out, she immediately spots Baekhyun, standing alone just beyond the porch steps, her hands raised and cradling the moon on high. For a few seconds, she simply watches the delicate rise and fall of Baekhyun’s breath. Then, she remembers herself.

Baekhyun is naked and must be freezing. 

“Baekhyun,” she calls, her voice hoarse from the cold. The woman does not respond, entranced by the moon. Minseok walks out onto the porch, then down the steps. Baekhyun does not seem to notice her approach until she stands right next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

At that Baekhyun startles, her body running tense as a live wire, her fingers wrenching themselves into claws. She turns, frozen in her pose, and softens when she meets Minseok’s eyes, turning her gaze back towards the moon and resuming her posture.

“What are you doing awake?” Baekhyun mumbles.

“Looking for you. I woke up alone and it was cold inside.”

“I forgot to close the door, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun murmurs, raising her chin to face the silvery light. Minseok falls quiet, watching, then, Baekhyun speaks again. “Can I show you something?”

What could Baekhyun possibly want to show her at the middle of the night? “What?” Minseok asks.

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, only takes her hand. Her flesh is ice cold, alarmingly so, but she doesn’t appear all that affected by the cold. She leads Minseok away from the house, out towards the forest. 

Minseok’s heart begins to thud, apprehension coursing through her veins. “Baekhyun?” she questions again. But she doesn’t stop. Their exchange earlier replaying through her mind.

_“I’ve got nothing to worry about?”_

_“Never.”_

Twigs snap under their heels, rocks piercing at the flesh, and though Minseok is terrified, she is similarly transfixed. She continues forward because she is curious, because she can’t imagine what it is that Baekhyun trusts her enough to show her. 

Eventually, they reach a small clearing. It is not the same one as was in the field, where Minseok watched Baekhyun’s ritual, but it bears striking similarity. The only difference being that the fire pit is smaller here, that a goat’s skull rests at its base, stained and smeared with red. “Do you trust me?” Baekhyun finally says, her voice low, a whisper. 

“I do.” She doesn’t.

Baekhyun looks at her for a long moment then nods. She turns to the unlit fire and murmurs a singular phrase. It bursts to life, a simmering mix of scarlets and violets. An unnatural flame. “I don’t share _them_ with just anyone,” Baekhyun explains quietly. Minseok doesn’t know who this amorphous _them_ is, but she’s already not liking it.

“Yixing thinks that to share them would be unwise,” Baekhyun’s voice trails off, “I think she’s jealous that _her_ friends might prefer the company of others.” The fire reflects in bright colors off of her face, in her eyes. “But I want to share them… with people I trust, that is.”

Minseok nods, squeezing Baekhyun’s hand in encouragement. She doesn’t dare look away from the witch nor the fire.

Baekhyun smiles, then, looking into the flames, she calls out, “Chen!”

Nothing happens.

Not in the beginning.

Then, the wood in the flames begins to curl, to twist, to boil and bubble. The earth around them seems to heat up, to liquify. Minseok feels like her feet have begun to sink into the soil, but she can’t bring herself to look down.

From the pit of the fire, something begins to form. Curling, twisting horns crest from the flames, and then, a sharp, angular jaw. The creature does not fully realize itself, does not step out of the flames, merely watches them, its skin like the flames, its eyes like coal. Baekhyun simply watches it, holding Minseok’s hand tightly. 

Then, “Are you afraid?”

“Yes,” Minseok says, because this time, she cannot lie. There is no rational explanation for the figure in the fire.

“It can’t hurt you so long as I’m here,” Baekhyun says, watching it with glittering eyes. 

Minseok’s not quite sure that’s the case, but she’s not about to question Baekhyun. 

“You can ask it for something. Chen grants desires,” she explains, staring deep into the flames. The figure’s mouth curls into a grin, wicked and cruel. There’s something false about it, something alarming.

Minseok looks at it, thinks to herself what she desires most of all. She doesn’t say anything aloud, but the thought comes to mind. She wants to be _free._ Allowed to be her own person, to indulge in her own interests. To be free of guilt. As soon as she thinks it though, she squanches the thought. She shouldn’t be selfish. 

But the fire flickers, the flames seemingly growing. The figure in the fire seems to grin even more widely now, as if it knows something Minseok does not. Not a moment later, the flames rocket higher, and the wood crackles in short pops.

The fire goes out.

Baekhyun looks dazed when she looks back at Minseok, but she also looks wary, searching. _She’s judging me_ , Minseok thinks, calming her stuttering breaths, steeling her jaw. _She wants to know how I feel about this…_

Whatever Baekhyun must see seems to convince her that everything is all right. She smiles, a sweet, genuine smile, and pecks Minseok’s cheek. “Come on, let’s go inside, it’s cold out here.”

Minseok cannot help but feel like this was too quick a devolvement. She’s still not entirely sure she’s processing the events as she should. She thinks that perhaps she should be a little more alarmed, but in comparison to the ritual she’d viewed prior, this is nothing—even if it _is_ wholly more supernatural. 

Minseok lets her guide her back to the house, then sits at the counter while Baekhyun makes them some hot chocolate. It’s alarming how quick she and Baekhyun go from seriousness, from violence and distrust, straight back to friendliness, blitheness. It’s so easy, Minseok almost forgets what _exactly_ had transpired at the fire pit.

That is, until her phone rings.

There is something to be said for a phone call in the middle of the night. It’s an event that immediately puts a pit in one’s stomach, that runs their blood cold. That’s how Minseok feels when she goes to fish it out of her pant’s pocket and brings it back to the counter. The number on the display is that of the assisted living facility.

She feels numb when they deliver the news.

She feels numb and she feels _guilty._

She wanted to be free of many things, but unbidden, freedom from her mother’s judgments was the first thought to have come to mind in that moment by the fire. 

She didn’t imagine her freedom meant her mother’s death.

She thanks the workers for notifying her. They tell her that her aunt has arranged to handle funerary proceedings—they can offer her little more than that small comfort on the line. Minseok had known it was going to happen, but… this was sudden. This inexplicably feels like her fault.

As soon as she hangs up the phone, she crumples. Baekhyun leaps into action, diving across the countertop and snagging Minseok by the arm, wrenching her up, keeping her from toppling completely from her seat. 

Dully, Minseok can hear Baekhyun’s sharp gasp as she’s burned by the pot on the stove, the hot milk splashing up when jolted out of place. Baekhyun navigates around the counter and hauls Minseok more wholly into her arms, half walking her, half dragging her over to the couch. 

Minseok collapses, pulling the blanket around herself, cocooning herself in misery. Baekhyun seems at a loss, patting Minseok’s head briefly before turning around and stopping the stove. Minseok hears water running, another soft gasp as Baekhyun presses a damp towel against the burn on her ribs, then Baekhyun is back, crawling up onto the couch and pulling Minseok against her.

She doesn’t ask questions, doesn’t do anything but hold her there, let her cry until her eyes slip shut and she falls asleep.


	3. Madness

Come morning, Minseok asks for Baekhyun to drive her home, and then, as kindly as she can, for her to give her some space while she grieves. Baekhyun, for all her faults, agrees readily, concern seeping out of every pore of her body. For someone who’s perfectly blasé about murdering people, she sure has a lot of sympathy for Minseok. As soon as she leaves Minseok’s, she’s quiet, only shooting off a quick text that if Minseok needs anything, she should call. 

After that, Minseok simply… exists. 

Grief is a cruel thing. It chews her into a pulp then spits her out, a husk of what she once was, all her emotions drained out of her. Her aunt visits later in the day, cooks for Minseok, tells her about the plans for the funeral. They’re doing something small. A cremation and then a scattering of her mother’s ashes. After all, they are the only two her mother had left.

And Minseok had _failed_ her on an intrinsic level, one that she’s unsure she can ever forgive herself for. She hadn’t even subscribed to Baekhyun’s religion and here she was using a demon with unintended consequences.

It throws her into a more dour mood, her aunt seemingly noticing. So bad that her aunt eventually leaves, somewhat miffed by Minseok’s attitude, by the sharpness of her tongue, the callousness of her words when they discuss the arrangements.

And so it continues as the days move on and they officially scatter her mother’s ashes (at the ocean, as she would have wanted). After that, Minseok feels empty, apathetic, devoid of an identity. She feels faceless, nameless, a _nothing_. 

She doesn’t really know why she leaves the house, then. It’s not like her mood is any better, and seeing strangers blithely go about their day in public does nothing to help. She mills about the city for a long time, gaze blank, mind empty, until a sharp grip wraps around her shoulder.

“Hey! Long time no see!” the perpetrator says, her voice chipper and loud. 

Minseok stares blankly at her, slow to process her words, but quick to judge the woman’s brashness. Before she can say that the stranger must be mistaken, that there is no chance they know each other, the woman’s voice drops, “There’s a couple of guys that have been following you for a few blocks,” she explains.

This jumpstarts Minseok’s brain. She nods wordlessly and forces a smile onto her face, knowing it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh wow!” She exclaims, her voice raspy from disuse, “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

The stranger laughs, then pulls open the door of the nearest shop—a little coffeehouse. “I didn’t either,” she says cheerily, “Coffee?”

Minseok nods, recognizing an out when she sees one. She steps over the threshold, the stranger following her, and is immediately enveloped by the scent of pastries, coffee, and chocolate. “Thanks for that,” she says, watching as the men pass by the shop, steps dragging, eyes cold when they meet Minseok’s through the window. She shivers.

“Yeah, no problem. You look like you’re having a hard time, let me treat you to something,” the stranger says. Minseok wants to say no, but she’s somewhat refreshed by this woman. She’s sharp, beautiful in a unique sort of way. Her jaw is strong, angular—her cheekbones high and cutting. She has straight brows, but a curly lip. Her eyes are dark, sultry, mysterious. 

Unconsciously, Minseok finds she reminds her somewhat of Baekhyun. “That would be very kind,” Minseok says, giving the woman permission. She follows her up to the counter. “Can I get a small peppermint mocha?” she asks. The stranger nods happily, orders, pays, and when asked, gives her name. It’s ‘Jongdae.’

She points Minseok over to one of the booths, “Why don’t you go ahead and sit there, and I’ll go grab our drinks.”

Minseok nods, goes and finds her seat, and then her thoughts catch up with her. Who the hell _is_ Jongdae and why is she being so kind to a stranger? When Jongdae returns to the table with their drinks (they got the same thing), Minseok asks her as much.

“Women looks out for other women, right? Also, you just looked like you needed a little kindness, and I’m always happy to show it,” Jongdae says brightly, her eyes turning into crescents when she smiles.

Minseok’s not quite convinced. There’s something fake about this woman—and the fact that she had reminded Minseok of Baekhyun definitely sets off alarm bells in her head. “Yeah, I mean, thank you. Sorry, I don’t want to come off like I’m ungrateful or anything it’s just… it’s been a rough week,” she says.

Jongdae hums like she understands, but really there’s no way for her to. “If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Jongdae suggests. “Sometimes it’s easier once you get something off your chest.” 

For a moment, Minseok wants to brush her off, but in the next… It would be nice to just talk about it. Free of any repercussions. Jongdae is a stranger. They’ll probably never meet again.

It’s because of this that Minseok begins to tell her the gist of the story. She doesn’t mention the demon, nor really go into detail with Baekhyun, but she explains the other stuff. Like the guilt she’s always felt for not marrying. For being _gay._ She explains how she’s always felt like she’s let her mother down, that for the longest time she just wanted to be free of her. That in her darkest moments, she had wanted her mother gone if only to feel like she could live her own life free of consequence. Because it would destroy her if her mother disapproved of her—if her mother knew and rejected her.

Jongdae listens intently, offering soft encouragements when she can, reaching out to squeeze Minseok’s hand when words fail her. “You sound like a great daughter,” she says once Minseok’s done. 

Minseok laughs, tone sarcastic and unbelieving, “You can’t be serious?”

“No, I am,” Jongdae says, her eyes dark and honest, “We all have desires we never _really_ mean, but they come from a place of hurt, of suffering? You’ve gone your entire life living a lie because you were afraid of your mother’s disapproval. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be free of that. The only tragic thing about it is that you felt so insecure in her love for you that you couldn’t tell her.”

Minseok blinks at that, her lips trembling. Jongdae continues, “A mother’s love is so deep, it takes a lot to corrupt it—in most instances,” Jongdae sounds like she speaks from experience, but she looks much younger than Minseok. “And by the way you described your mother, she wouldn’t have abandoned you, Minseok.” 

Minseok nods at that, somewhat contented. Jongdae smiles, begins to introduce herself, then gets a call. She answers, frowns, and hangs up. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go,” she explains, getting up from the booth. She slips her purse strap on and pats Minseok on the shoulder. “I hope we run into each other again, you seem really sweet.”

Minseok is inclined to agree, smiling when Jongdae leaves the shop. It isn’t until the rest of her mocha turns cold that she realizes she’d never told Jongdae her name.

***

She texts Baekhyun later that evening, while she’s out at Kyungsoo and Jongin’s place. They’re all watching a movie, but the night has been quiet, like her coworkers consider her a live wire ready to spark.

> **Me:** hey, do you know someone named jongdae, perhaps? she’s sort of small, really sharp jawline, reminds me of you.

Her phone vibrates a minute later.

> **Baekhyun:** no i dont think so!! she sounds hot tho!! 

Then another minute passes and her phone vibrates again.

> **Baekhyun:** r u doing ok, tho???? i assume ur somewhat better since ur texting now.
> 
> **Baekhyun:** u know ur welcome at mine if u need to get away from things
> 
> **Baekhyun:** but i know u wanted some space, so dont feel obligated.

Minseok waits, weighing the options, then, “Hey Soo, Nini, I’m gonna head out for the night.”

Two pairs of owl-eyes land on her, heads cocking, eyebrows furrowing. “This doesn’t have anything to do with those texts you got, right? You’re not going to see Baekhyun, are you?” Kyungsoo says.

Minseok’s not sure _what_ compels her to lie. After all, it’s probably safer if Kyungsoo and Jongin know she’s headed to the lion’s den. But she simply says, “No, I just want to go home.” 

Jongin reaches over to grab his keys, but Minseok stops him. “There’s still a few trains tonight, don’t worry about it. The station’s right down the street.” 

Jongin pauses, frowning, then Kyungsoo gets up, grabbing his coat. “At least let me walk you to the station,” he says concernedly. 

Minseok pauses, then nods, not sure what’s gotten into her to have her hesitating so much. Half of her wants to protest. She doesn’t need to be babied and she’s walked to the station at this time of night before. 

She’s being irrational. She lets Kyungsoo lead her out the door, then walk her all the way down to the station. She doesn’t know why she’s being cold with him, it just feels like all of this was unnecessary. 

“Thank you,” she finally says. 

Kyungsoo looks at her for a long moment, then, he sighs. “Look, I don’t know what’s wrong with you Minseok, but Jongin and I didn’t do anything to you. We’re just trying to offer you our support.” 

Minseok gets ready to protest. Her mother just _died,_ of course there’s something wrong with her. 

But Kyungsoo continues, “You’re doing that thing where you push everyone away and get lost in your thoughts. You did this back when Junmyeon first threatened to fire you and you’re doing it again. Just, please. It’s more dangerous now—you’re getting too involved with Baekhyun and I’m worried about you.”

“Why don’t you trust me?” Minseok says, her tone indignant.

“I do trust you, I’m just worried you’re going to get so wrapped up that once you realize what’s going on, you’re going to be too embarrassed to get out of it.”

“That sounds just like you not trusting me to do the right thing, to take care of myself. Thank you very much, Kyungsoo, but I’m not a fucking child.”

The train rolls up then. Minseok turns and lets herself on. She watches Kyungsoo out the window. His gaze is unreadable, a dark mass of emotion without a specific one she can pick out. 

The train leaves the station.

***

“I hope you don’t mind me showing up,” Minseok says once Baekhyun opens the door, her eyes bleary. “I walked because I didn’t want you to have to come out with a car,” she explains, walking inside the apartment and unravelling her scarf, tugging off her gloves. 

Baekhyun hums, “I don’t mind at all. Yifan and Chanyeollie were cooking while I took a little nap. I figured since you didn’t respond, you weren’t coming.”

“I’m sorry,” Minseok says on auto-pilot. Baekhyun quirks an eyebrow, worry cascading over her features. She does nothing to mask the emotion.

And that’s _terrifying_ to Minseok because it means Baekhyun trusts her—not only that, but Minseok, though she hates to say it, trusts Baekhyun likewise. 

“Don’t be,” Baekhyun soothes. “Just come have some dinner. We’re glad to have your company.” 

True to her word, Chanyeol and Yifan are both in the kitchen, and both of them greet her—Chanyeol much more warmly than Yifan. Minseok’s struck with the realization that this is the first time she and Yifan have been face to face since _that_ night. 

“Hey, _noona!_ ” Chanyeol greets, “Are you here because you forgot something again?” he teases. 

Minseok laughs at that. Again, it is so frightening how easily she falls into a rhythm with Baekhyun and all of her friends. 

“No, no, it must have been because I missed seeing _you_ , Chanyeol-ah,” she says right back, reaching over the counter to give Chanyeol’s cheek a pinch. 

He grins blindly. For someone who had looked so panicked the last time she saw him, Chanyeol does a good job of masking his anxieties (because he must _surely_ be a little nervous knowing that Minseok knows what she knows). 

It’s so easy for her to engage with them. It’s like her grief gets shelved for a moment and she’s actually allowed to live in the moment. For the first time in her life, she feels unapologetically free. 

***

A few days later, she’s buzzed up to Junmyeon’s office. She had returned from Baekhyun’s and gotten back to work by Monday, but here she is on Wednesday with nothing to offer Junmyeon about her case other than what she’d witnessed (but had no tangible proof of).

“Minseok, sit down,” he says when she lets herself in. Junmyeon’s office isn’t particularly fancy, nor is it neat by any standards. “I know you’ve been doing some editing and whatnot while you’ve been working on your _big_ story,” Junmyeon says.

He continues, his voice lowering, his fingers clasping. He looks worried, like he already knows the answer is going to be _no._ “But, do you have anything to update me on, or?” He says, waiting patiently for Minseok to find her voice.

“Nothing… tangible,” she tries meekly. “It’s hard to… log proof without Baekhyun noticing, you know?”

“Minseok…”

“I know it sounds bad, and really, I’m gracious for you keeping me on payroll while I work on it but—”

“I’m not sure if I can afford to keep you on, Ms. Kim,” Junmyeon cuts her off, a layer of professionalism in his voice. “I have bosses too, and it’s getting harder to explain to them why it’s worth having you on our team.”

Silence. Minseok feels her heart sinking in her chest.

“Ms. Kim, I think it’s best you forget about the story. And… any others you had in mind. Unfortunately, you no longer have a place at this magazine.”

Minseok has half a mind to protest, to defend herself, but she can already see the dazed, unhappy look in Junmyeon’s eyes. He’s been hard on her in the past, but he’s also been one of her most accommodating employers. She can tell this is hard on him.

“I understand, Sir,” she pauses, searching for words, fighting to keep a humiliated blush from rising to her cheeks. “I can forward you the articles I was in the process of editing. I’ll go clean out my desk.”

He nods sharply and Minseok leaves the room.

She gets a few curious looks from the workers scattered about, but nothing bad enough to make her cry. No one stops her, either, which is good. 

It means the first place she lets a tear fall is in her shared office. Kyungsoo is out, though, took off for lunch a few minutes before she was called to Junmyeon’s. She figures it’s for the best. She doesn’t want Kyungsoo to see her break down over her termination. He’d be too quick to pity her, and that’s almost as embarrassing as being fired in the first place.

She clears out what’s in her desk quickly and easily, emails the articles to Junmyeon, and leaves the way she’d come. Again, she catches some glances, but again, no one stops her.

She feels so, so alone.

Perhaps that’s why she calls Baekhyun from the train station. It rings once, twice, three times, then it picks up. The voice on the other end is not Baekhyun. _“Hello?”_ it answers.

“Hi, this is Minseok? I’m calling for Baekhyun.”

_“Ah, Minseok. I don’t believe we’ve met. This is Yixing speaking. Baekhyun is currently unavailable.”_ Minseok’s heart deflates at that, her shoulders sagging. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Can you tell her I called?”

_“Of course, we’ll have to meet one day. Any friend of Baek’s is a friend of mine,”_ Yixing drawls through the receiver. Minseok nods, thanks her, and hangs up the phone, feeling uncharacteristically unsettled. 

Someone bumps into her shoulder. “Boo!” they say, as Minseok turns around. It’s Jongdae, short and bright. “Funny meeting you here, stranger!” she comments, her voice sweet as candy. 

“Likewise,” Minseok answers. “How is it that you and I keep running into one another? I’m positive I would have noticed you before if our routes are this similar,” she wonders.

Jongdae’s eyes twinkle. “Probably not, actually! I just got a new job working at the queer bookstore down the street,” she explains. “You should check it out sometime.”

“Hmm, who’s to say I’m into that sort of thing?”

“ _Ha_ , funny joke!” Jongdae teases, following Minseok onto the train. 

Minseok laughs. Again, this solidarity. Feeling like she’s found a place in someone—a stranger at that.

Eventually, their conversation strays. “You seem like you’re having a rough day again?”

“A little,” Minseok says, “I lost my job, but it was a long time coming. My mother had me distracted and then… well, everything fell apart.”

“Holy hell,” Jongdae says, wincing, “I feel like you need to get rolled up in bubble-wrap,” she sympathizes. Her gaze meets Minseok.

Again, Minseok is struck by Jongdae’s similarity to Baekhyun. 

“What? Is there something on my face?” Jongdae asks, calling Minseok on her stare. Minseok shakes her head.

“No, no. You just… reminded me of someone, that’s all.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” Jongdae asks, cocking her head.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Minseok says. Jongdae raises a brow at that, but doesn’t question her for once. Instead, she pulls the conversation away, back onto safer topics. 

Minseok doesn’t realize she’s missed her stop until Jongdae begins to gather her bags. Actually, she _had_ been paying attention, so she has no idea how she was able to miss it. She should have at least been able to hear it get announced even if she wasn’t watching the displays.

Jongdae seems to notice her confusion, and then her apprehensive panic. “You good?” She asks.

“Yeah, I just missed my stop. I don’t actually know where I am, to be perfectly honest,” she says, reading the name of the platform they’re due to arrive at. She swears she’s never heard of this stop, _or_ this part of town at all for that matter.

“Oh? This is one of the last stops. The next one is out in the middle of nowhere—I mean this one is too, kinda—but you can just come chill with me. I’m heading back into the city later tonight to meet up with a friend.”

Minseok sucks in a breath, shocked at Jongdae’s overabundance of generosity. “I… yes, that would be really nice of you, actually. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. Back when I was in my prime,” she says it like she’s not still young and beautiful, “I used to hitchhike around and sleep wherever people would let me. I wanted to travel, but couldn’t afford to pay for hotels and the like. It’s easier to just make friends,” she explains. Minseok’s surprised, but also a little impressed by Jongdae’s experiences.

Jongdae tells her about her travels all the way out of the station and into her apartment block.

It’s not until the door shuts behind them that Minseok thinks back to the walk, hazily registering that she doesn’t remember a single building or business from the walk—in fact, she doesn’t even remember any people. She dismisses the thought. Jongdae’s a captivating person, one that Minseok’s happy to sit and listen to.

***

Milling about in Jongdae’s apartment had been nice enough. Jongdae had even lent her some clothes to wear so she could change out of her work outfit. Still, Minseok can’t help but feel glad once she’d been shuttled out into a car and they’re actually on the road.

“So why do you take the train when you have a car? It seems like it’s a long commute,” she comments curiously.

“Well, one, to save on gas. It’s cheaper to get a station pass for the year than to pay for gas each month. And two, cause I like meeting people on the trains and whatnot.”

Minseok likes that answer, finds it very fitting for Jongdae. 

Again, they fill the car with chatter, until Jongdae reaches familiar streets, and that’s when Minseok begins to pay attention. Minseok gives Jongdae the name of the bus stop closest to her home, that way Jongdae doesn’t have to pull through all the side streets and isn’t too removed from her route. 

When she’s let out, her phone rings. It’s Baekhyun. _“Minseok!”_ She says, voice staticky over the speaker. _“I’m at your apartment, wanted to take you out for an impromptu dinner if you didn’t mind. But it doesn’t look like you’re home.”_

“I missed my train stop earlier so I was hanging out with a… friend. She just dropped me off, though, so I’ll be over soon.” 

She still has her purse and laptop case in hand—which looks a little suspicious, but she can always just tell Baekhyun she was just out writing at some coffee shop. She’s sure Baekhyun wouldn’t question it. 

She’s also really glad to see Baekhyun, though, she feels equally as guilty about it. She hasn’t forgotten what’s happened, but… there’s something about Baekhyun that makes Minseok feel like perhaps she’s just mislead. That Baekhyun’s been brainwashed. She can’t be held completely accountable for her actions then, can she? If that’s the case?

Baekhyun’s inside her apartment when she arrives, having entered the door code. Minseok finds her dozing off on the couch, her purse set down on the floor, her coat thrown over the back of the couch. 

“Hey,” Minseok says, setting her bags down and kneeling on the cushion next to Baekhyun.

Baekhyun pulls her down onto the couch, a soft giggle rumbling from her throat. Her hand wraps itself up in Minseok’s hair and scratches soothingly at her scalp. 

“I hear you wanted to bring me to dinner,” Minseok mumbles against her ear, leaving the barest of kisses in her wake.

“I do. It’s a quiet thing. Yixing has already reserved the table.”

“Ah, I spoke to her on the phone earlier,” Minseok says, a little less sure of their plans now that she’s hearing _other_ people are involved. “She seems nice,” Minseok tries.

Baekhyun snorts, “I’m not sure about nice, but, she’s been wanting to meet you…” A pause. “She introduced me to my… alternative beliefs,” Baekhyun cedes. 

This catches Minseok’s attention. It also thrusts her all the way back to when she first learned of Baekhyun’s friend circle. Zhang Yixing was the only member semi-conclusively linked to a murder by the public. Baekhyun’s definitely linked, but not by anyone in the public sphere. Only Minseok. Minseok is the only outsider that knows about her (and perhaps Yifan, too). 

“I’m sure we’ll get along fine,” Minseok says, kissing the bridge of Baekhyun’s nose then pulling back to smile down at the blonde. Baekhyun laughs, boops Minseok’s nose, and urges her to go get dressed. They have reservations to make, after all.

***

Once they _do_ arrive, though, Minseok’s not so sure of her words. Baekhyun has always reminded Minseok of a hound—the elegant type—fiercely loyal and protective, but a hunter, a predator at heart. Zhang Yixing reminds her of a snake. The type that slowly wraps itself around you and chokes.

Yixing is deceptively slight. When she stands to greet Minseok, she towers over her by a good couple of inches—aided in part by her heels. Her hair is slicked back in a neat pony-tail. Her skin glimmers with an almost false sense of youth. Her eyes remind Minseok of coal. 

“Minseok, it’s nice to meet you,” Minseok introduces herself, bowing slightly and then slipping into the seat next to Baekhyun. Yixing echoes her introduction, then sits as well. It’s only then that Minseok takes the chance to look around the table. She recognizes Huang Zitao, Lu Han, and of course, Wu Yifan is also present. Greetings are echoed around the table.

Minseok meets Yifan’s eyes. His face remains impassive, but something dark, something judging swirls in those eyes.

“I hear Baekhyun has chosen to… show you a side of her few get to see.”

Minseok glances at Baekhyun, feels slightly better at the little nod Baekhyun gives her, telling her it’s _okay._ “Yes, I—uh. Yeah, she’s told me things; shown me things,” Minseok gets out, swallowing, then reaching for her glass of wine to soothe the dryness in her mouth.

“Oh? What sort of things?” Yixing asks, her voice smooth, cordial. 

Minseok feels put on the spot. Thrust into a situation she doesn’t have any control over. “The face in the flames. How you are the one who introduced her to your… beliefs, the like,” Minseok says calmly, sipping her wine. 

Yixing arches a brow, but says nothing. The conversation turns, Zitao deciding at that moment that Minseok is friend, not foe, and inviting the table into a more gentle conversation—not one full of traps.

The rest of dinner proceeds like that, quiet, relaxed, safe—until it’s time to leave. 

“I have a flight,” Yifan reminds Baekhyun, standing up from the table and smoothing out his clothes. 

Baekhyun nods, asks if he needs a ride to the airport. He doesn’t, but Yixing asks if she can catch a ride back to Baekhyun’s before her flight the next morning.

And so Minseok ends up sat in the passenger seat with Yixing’s cold gaze creeping up her neck. Baekhyun doesn’t seem to notice the tension in the car, chattering on about some show she’d recently done, some people she had recently met. It’s not until they pass through the front gate to Baekhyun’s home that the tension reaches a point.

Yixing leans forward and places a firm, almost threatening hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder. Minseok turns to glance at the woman while Baekhyun’s gaze flickers to watch her through the rearview. “Let’s have a chat, real quick, hmm?” Yixing says.

It doesn’t sound like either of them have much choice, and this puts Minseok on edge. In every scenario, Baekhyun has been the one in control, the obvious dominant personality. To see her reigned in, made to submit to the whims of someone else, is alarmingly off-putting.

“What about?” Baekhyun says, her voice collected. She betrays no nerves, no caution. If it weren’t for her white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, Minseok would think she was perfectly at ease.

“Ms. Kim, here,” Yixing says, turning to meet Minseok’s gaze. Her eyes are cold, challenging, inherently judgmental. “What made you trust her so fast, Baekhyun? You know our interests are not often smiled upon.”

“It wasn’t fast,” Baekhyun protests, but she’s silenced by a look. It’s only been a little more than a few months—maybe three or four? By all means, they have been moving fast. “I—look, she hasn’t ever given me a reason not to trust her. Besides, Chen has shown her favor, too,” Baekhyun explains. “You know as well as I do that Chen does not entertain the wishes of just anyone.”

Yixing’s gaze flashes. Judging by Baekhyun’s non-reaction, she doesn’t seem to notice the swift change in expression. Yixing is just as quick about hiding it, so much so that Minseok’s unsure she ever saw the malice in the first place. 

“Is that so? Chen was the face in the flames?” Yixing asks, turning to Minseok.

Minseok wants to shake her head, maybe if she refutes the claim, Yixing won’t be out to get her. As it is, the other woman seems to hold a dagger at her back, just waiting for Minseok to make a mistake. 

“Yes,” Minseok says, “That’s what Baekhyun said.”

“And Chen granted your desire?” Yixing asks, gaze sharp.

Minseok bites her lip. She hadn’t ever told Baekhyun what she wished for. Baekhyun realizes the error in her words immediately, she shouldn’t have assumed that Minseok’s wishes were granted. Baekhyun’s head jerks around, her gaze meeting Minseok’s. Before she can give some excuse, Minseok turns to Yixing and answers her. 

“Yeah. It did. I asked for freedom and I—I didn’t realize that meant my mother had to leave the picture until now.” 

Silence.

“Oh, Minseok, I’m so sorry,” Baekhyun says, everything finally coming full circle for her. Now she understands why Minseok was so hesitant to let her around while she grieved. And it’s not like Minseok is finished grieving… it’s only that she blames herself a little less. Her mother had been on her way out anyways… it’s just disappointing to have her go the way she did.

Yixing releases their shoulders, leaning back. Her gaze is dark, formidable. “If she knows Chen, and has been shown favor by Chen, then shouldn’t she be formally inducted? Put through the trial?”

Silence falls over the car as Minseok processes the words, as Baekhyun thinks of a response.

“She should,” Baekhyun agrees finally, inclining her head ever so slightly in assent. “Does she want to?”

“Does she really have a choice?” Again, Yixing’s words are dangerous, challenging, meant to put Baekhyun back in her place. 

Baekhyun’s eyes widen, she seems not to want to decide. Seems torn between protecting Minseok from something and wanting to please Yixing. 

“I—” Minseok stammers, “I’ll do it if it would make you happy. I don’t want to be the exception to your rules,” she tries. 

Immediately, Baekhyun relaxes, her problem solved for her. Since Minseok made her own choice, she doesn’t have to force one on her.

Minseok wonders what would happen if she refused the induction. 

“If you call everyone now, they should be able to come in for the witching hour, Baekhyun. Everyone’s in town for the coming solstice, and your husband isn’t here to… interrupt,” Yixing murmurs.

Baekhyun nods. Minseok wonders what tension there could be between Yixing and Yifan to have them getting in each other’s way. She feels thrust into the dark, suddenly reminded of just how little she knows about Baekhyun’s cult and their dynamics, their history. 

“I’ll call them. In the meantime?”

“In the meantime, we have your pretty friend prepared,” Yixing mumbles, her nails scraping across Minseok’s ear and down the back of her neck. Shivers erupt down Minseok’s spine.

She’s terrified. 

Finally, she thinks she’s bitten off more than she can chew.

“Baekhyun, what is this… induction going to entail?” she finally asks, pulling Baekhyun aside worriedly. Anxiety courses through her blood, sets her nerves on fire. 

Baekhyun shakes her head, “It’s not too bad. You just have to invoke the ritual. Most often, nothing happens, which is good because it means Chen doesn’t disapprove of you. It’s as good a result as approval.”

“Then, what happens if Chen does disapprove of me?” Minseok asks, anxiety seeping out of her tone. Baekhyun finally seems to notice, pausing and putting her hands on Minseok’s face, thumbing at her lips gently.

“Oh, Min. You don’t have to be worried. Chen would never disapprove of you. Besides, she’s already shown you her favor… even if she did so in a way we didn’t expect.”

By killing her mother, Minseok thinks. She’s almost positive her expression falters, hardens into some semblance of anger, but she lets the emotion go. She has much bigger things to worry about right now. “Minseok?” Yixing calls, “Come here.”

Minseok walks back into the lounge. An array of items have been set out on the coffee table, mostly crystals and bags of herbs, skulls, jewelry. “Pick three items,” Yixing says calmly. Minseok stares at the table, then looks up to Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun’s gaze looks worried for the second time that night, as if she knows Minseok has no idea what she’s doing, has gotten too involved. But she gives the barest shake of her head. If this is a trial, Baekhyun cannot help her. Will not help her.

Minseok looks back down at the table and picks up a canine-skull. Then, a cluster of grapes. Then, a pair of obsidian earrings shaped like a cross. She passes the items to Yixing, who says nothing, betrays nothing about what the results of her choices will be.

It’s at that moment that Luhan and Zitao arrive. Sehun joins them shortly after, and then, Chanyeol appears, wide-eyed and innocent looking. “Taeyeon, Irene, Sooyoung, and Seulgi are all coming,” Chanyeol informs. He meets Minseok’s gaze, seems to notice her barely concealed panic.

Of everyone in Baekhyun’s circle, Chanyeol is, surprisingly, one of the most observant. He cocks his head ever so slightly, eyes widening when he realizes Minseok’s terrified. Still, he says nothing, not with Yixing and Baekhyun both in the room—arguably the most dangerous people there.

“Pick: the dagger or the axe?” Yixing asks again.

“The dagger,” Minseok says without thinking. Yixing nods, fetches a sleek, curved blade off the table. It’s a wicked blade, the type that rips one open. Nothing like the short, straight ritual knives Minseok had imagined before.

The door opens, chatter floating into the foyer. The four women have arrived. It’s then that Yixing ushers them all outside. Baekhyun stays behind with Minseok. “Let’s get you dressed,” Baekhyun murmurs, helping Minseok out of her clothes. She puts Minseok into a shimmering black dress. Wraps her hair in a silky, transparent veil of the same color.

Then she smears rosemary oil down Minseok’s arms, over her collarbones, up her neck. “I feel like I’m about to be sacrificed.”

“Mhm, only if things go wrong—which they won’t,” Baekhyun says. She almost sounds like she’s trying to convince herself at this point, even if there _is_ a teasing lilt to her tone. “Are you ready?” She asks, taking Minseok’s hand and leading her outside.

She’s not, so she doesn’t answer Baekhyun’s question, just lets the other woman lead her down the gravel path out into the woods, then, into the field. This is not the fire pit where she first met the demon in the flame. This is where she witnessed the sacrifice.

The cultists are gathered around a growing flame, their voices already rising up in a low chant. They are naked, leaving Yixing, Baekhyun, and Minseok the only clothed individuals for the ceremony.

“Kneel,” Yixing commands, forcing Minseok onto her knees once she enters the circle. Minseok gasps, jolting at the unfamiliar brusqueness with which she’s handled. Baekhyun bites her lip, her gaze flickering with worry again. Yixing’s gaze falls on her, and Baekhyun looks away, her voice rising up in that same unknown language Minseok had heard the first time.

The fire seems to dance, welcoming Baekhyun’s voice into the song. Yixing’s hand wraps itself in Minseok’s hair and forces her head down. 

She closes her eyes, wincing, anxiety raising goosebumps up and down her arms. 

The song grows and grows, and soon, beneath the human tones of all the cultists, there joins something else, wholly inhuman, both gorgeous and simultaneously blood-curdling. Minseok thinks she is the first to notice it, because it’s not until that inhuman voice reaches a scream that she hears joy seep into the cultists’ tone. 

**ARE YOU AFRAID?** A voice seems to whisper in her ears. **ARE YOU?** It repeats, force behind its words. Minseok squeezes her eyes shut further, her body trembling. 

Yixing’s grip forces her head up again. Now, she opens her eyes. Baekhyun stands in front of her, crushing the handful of grapes she had chosen into a bowl, ceremonial and beautiful, gilded and gold. Then, she kneels down and uses a rock to crush the canine-skull into fragments, then, into a powder. She pours this too into the bowl. 

Yixing hums something in that language, that ritual tongue, and glides the wicked dagger across her throat. Minseok watches with wide eyes as Baekhyun’s song falters, as her hands shake, panic overcoming her features. 

Minseok wants to scream, but Yixing’s firm grip keeps her jaw clasped shut, her body pulled taut, as pain laces through her head, her nerves screaming at the sudden cut. Blood runs hot and thick down her body, soaking her clothes. It’s too much.

It’s too deep of a cut. 

Minseok’s vision swims even as Baekhyun jolts forward hurriedly and places the lip of the bowl at her throat. She’s not sure what she looks at Baekhyun with, probably a mix of terror and disappointment, but she can see the woman falter again. 

She had trusted Baekhyun’s word, even going into this. 

And now she’s going to die.

A sob wracks her frame. Baekhyun blinks, turning away from her.

Baekhyun’s voice rises up, sharp and clear, continuing the chant at a new high. She throws the bowl’s mixture into the flames.

Immediately after, the flames rise up, sizzling on the blood cast atop its wood, Minseok convulses. Her body rips itself free of Yixing’s hands. 

There’s an inhuman strength to her. 

She claws at the ground, contorts, arches, screams. 

Yixing steps back, her hair whipping wildly in the wind, tugged free of her pony-tail. She looks half alarmed, half enthralled. 

Baekhyun looks wholly alarmed, but there’s also a glimmer of hope in her eyes. 

Minseok doesn’t understand.

But she sobs when pain lances through her again. She feels like she’s being torn apart from the seams, like something is inside her and wants out. 

She pushes herself up on her hands and knees. Her body convulses again and she begins to choke. In her panic, she recognizes the horrifying feeling of something crawling its way back up her throat.

Minseok vomits a pool of black. Then, a hand reaches forth from her throat, hooks its fingers in the ground, and tugs. She wants to scream, her body pushed to its limits, her throat fluttering around whatever it is infecting her.

Like a parasite, the thing slides free of her body, glistening with spit, coated in blackened blood. For a moment, it is small, almost infantile. Then, it begins to haul itself forwards, into the flames. There it begins to warp, to contort, to grow. 

The fire sings. The parasite laughs.

Soon, a figure stands in the flames, calm, arrogant, domineering. Minseok’s still choking up blood and gore, her eyes wide in horror, pain. 

And as quickly as the pain had overtaken her, it disappears. The figure steps out of the flames and crouches down by Minseok’s body, caressing her hair as she continues to sob. Baekhyun drops down to her knees then, reaching out for Minseok, dragging her away from the demon. 

Chen looks at them both. Her form is still free of any actual features. She is still only a silhouette, dark and foreboding, eyes gleaming like flashlights in contrast to the shadow of her body. “Priestess,” the demon greets, her voice gravelly and bold, “What a beautiful gift.”

Silence. 

Minseok nuzzles further into Baekhyun’s arms, hiding her face from the demon, her body trembling and twitching with pain. 

“You don’t want to give her up, though, do you?” the demon continues, reaching forward, caressing Baekhyun’s chin. “You only want to share her,” she completes, dragging her nails down Minseok’s back, cutting away the garments, leaving her nude, shivering. She regards the line of Minseok’s spine, nails scraping along her skin lightly, then, nods.

“I can share,” the demon says, rising up again and facing Yixing now. They stare at one another, impassive, and then, the demon grins. “You want what they have. What a funny little dillema that is?” she laughs and as quickly as the demon had appeared, she crawls back into the earth.

The only reminder that she’d been there, tangible, real, the deep lines running down Minseok’s back. The already scarring tissue on her neck. 

She’s been emblazoned with Chen’s touch, will always bear the marks of this ritual.

The song dies off and the fire sputters out. Minseok looks up at Baekhyun and sobs.

There’s shouting then, Baekhyun and Yixing arguing between themselves. Then, Minseok’s being picked up. Not by Baekhyun, but by Chanyeol. He holds her close to his chest, bundled up in his arms, and brings her out of the circle, back through the woods, into the manor.

The other cultists join him in helping to clean her up, washing the blood and ichor away from her skin, cleaning her wounds (even though they are already sealing up), and washing the dirt and grit off her body. They soothe her with whispers and kind encouragements.

For all Minseok had been terrified of them. For all she is still terrified of them, she can’t help but feel taken care of. There’s a bond now. She is irrevocably linked to all of them.

So much so, that when they retreat from the bathroom, leaving her alone to soak, she grows anxious. 

Until Baekhyun appears. Baekhyun who wronged her so much, but who was the first to reach out protectively. Was the first to protest what Yixing did to her.

“You told me it wouldn’t hurt,” Minseok whispers, voice hoarse, broken.

“I’m so, so sorry, Minseok. I didn’t know she would do that. It’s not supposed to happen like that. She began a sacrificial ritual while I sang an induction ritual. I don’t know why she would…” she trails off, kneeling at the edge of the bathtub and reaching over to caress Minseok’s forehead, her cheek, her lips. Then, she reaches for her hand, holds it in a tight grip, comforts her as best she can.

“She hates you,” Minseok mumbles, referring to Yixing. Baekhyun’s eyes widen, she shakes her head.

“It had to be a miscommunication, Minseok. She’d never go behind my back like that. She knows it’s too dangerous. If the ritual is done wrong, Chen could eat up my energy, suck the life out of me—Yixing would never let that happen,” Baekhyun explains. Minseok wants to scream. She’s so stupid! She’s so blind. She can’t see the obvious jealousy, the envy that pervades all of Yixing’s actions. But if she’s going to be blind to it, Minseok can’t do much to help her.

“If you say so,” Minseok answers, letting her eyes flutter shut. “I don’t… I don’t want to stay here tonight, Baekhyun. I need to process everything. I need a break, please.”

“Of course. I’ll bring you home and—”

Minseok cuts her off, “I want to be left alone. I want to go home and be left alone. I’ll call you when I’m ready to get involved…” She leaves no room for confusion. Baekhyun will bring her home and then leave her alone while she figures everything out. It’s not like she’s writing the story anymore, but she had haplessly thought that she could expose Baekhyun to the police at the very least.

Now…

Well, now she feels like she’s gone a step to far. She’s become involved to a whole new level. And that terrifies her. Can Minseok even go to the police after this?

Can she even go to Jongin or Kyungsoo? They’d take her for an idiot. They’d warned her about all of this, about getting in too deep. She can’t tell them. They wouldn’t understand what she’s gone through.

They wouldn’t understand that it’s real. That the power in these rituals is tangible. Inherently arcane. 

_Oh god,_ she’s fucked. Can she even go to them without suffering some arcane consequence?

***

She wakes up the next day sore and fatigued. She ends up staying inside the entire day, not ready to face the reality of what’s happened. Not ready to come to terms with it.

When she does finally get up, she feels like a ghost in the shell. Like her body isn’t truly hers. She feels like she was possessed… wasn’t she? Memories of that thing crawling out of her throat come to mind, send shivers down her spine. She gags at the memory and hurriedly goes to find some water to flush the taste of iron from her mouth.

Then, she pulls on her clothes, grabs her purse, and leaves her apartment. It’s stifling in there. She can’t just wallow in the dark. She has to get out and do something. So, she goes looking for that queer bookstore Jongdae had brought up back when they rode the train together.

She has to pass her old workplace to get to it, which reminds her of the unanswered texts from both Jongin and Kyungsoo in her phone. She shoots them a quick response telling them that she’s okay, then turns back to the street.

She arrives about ten minutes later. The establishment is quaint, quiet and nice. She lets herself inside and is instantly hit with the scent of old books and maybe… rosemary? It reminds her of the ritual two nights ago, and not in a good way. “Is that who I think it is?” Someone calls out from beyond the shelves.

It’s almost funny how the world works. Jongdae’s dressed in a loose black dress, a black choker, with a copper snake ring wrapped around her finger, and obsidian crosses hanging from her ears. She looks like the picture of goth… or occult. 

The obsidian crosses are so familiar.

Minseok chalks it up to coincidence. “Yep, it’s me,” she says lightly, trying to force some brightness into her voice. “I hope you don’t mind me showing up?”

“Of course not, just make sure you buy something,” Jongdae teases, putting a short stack of books on the counter and wrapping them. Minseok begins to peruse the shelves, peering over the various authors and titles. 

“Is there anything good out right now?” Minseok asks, picking up a fantasy book and flipping through it.

“I’m more into horror stories and the occult. There’s actually a grimoire we’ve gotten donated recently,” Jongdae leaves the gift-wrapped books on the counter and walks around to the back corner of the store, tugging Minseok along with her. She thumbs along each of the titles before finally landing on the one she wants.

She pulls it free of the shelf and offers it over to Minseok. _Duxit Mahemium_ , the book is titled. “What’s the title mean?” She asks, turning the book over. It doesn’t have a summary printed on the back cover.

Actually, all in all, it’s an unassuming sort of book. Just the thick black cover and red engraved lettering of the title. There’s no author mentioned anywhere.

“It’s Latin. It means ‘And Brought Her to Mayhem’ The book was donated, which is why it’s so… irregular?” Jongdae says, searching for the right descriptor to use. “I had to read it to vet it of course. It’s not as overtly queer as we typically carry, but we kept it anyways. It’s something of an occult dictionary of old, female-presenting demons.”

“How much is it?” Minseok asks, looking for a price tag. There is none.

“Prices are posted on the sign,” Jongdae says, pointing.

Minseok glances, checking the price for hardcover, donated books. She can spare that much. She opens up her wallet and takes out the necessary amount of bills, passing them over to Jongdae. “I’ll take it then. You said you enjoyed it?”

“Certainly,” Jongdae purrs. Something swirls in her gaze. Minseok doesn’t really like the look of it. “You know, I’m about to be off for the day if you want to wait and get lunch together?”

_Should she?_ It really couldn’t hurt, could it? “Yeah, of course. I’m going to go grab a quick coffee, come join me when you’re done and we can find a place to eat?” Jongdae nods, agreeing, and Minseok hurries across the street to wait.

Except, when she walks through the door she instantly recognizes two people she never wanted to see just out and about. It’s Chanyeol she recognizes first, because he’s the one facing the door. But as they recognize one another, the other person, Baekhyun turns around now too. She’s wearing glasses, not in anything expensive (it looks like a college hoodie and jeans), and isn’t wearing makeup, but she’s unmistakeable regardless.

Baekhyun’s face contorts into shock, then surprise, then, maybe apprehension. Chanyeol waves her over. 

It’s not like she can ignore them.

“Hi,” she says, sliding into the café booth with them, Chanyeol scooting over to make room for her.

“Hey,” Baekhyun replies, eyes wide, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah—I mean—I’m as good as I can be right now, right? I’m recovering, if that makes sense?” Minseok says, wiping her hands against her pants nervously. Baekhyun tracks the fidget, eyebrows knitting in concern. 

“I’m glad, and us? We’re—We’re good, right?”

_Are they?_

“Yeah, Baekhyun, I think we’ll be good.” It’s not a complete agreement, but it’s the promise of forgiveness, of being better. After all, Minseok doesn’t really feel like Baekhyun’s the one completely at fault. She had been the one to try and protect Minseok. But, Minseok can’t absolve her of her involvement. Nor can she forgive her for what Baekhyun’s done to all those other women. 

Before they can continue, the welcome bell rings again and Jongdae’s slipping through the door, sticking out like a sore thumb around the quaint café crowd. Minseok hurriedly waves her over.

When she faces Baekhyun again, she notices the woman’s narrowed, almost jealous eyes. Instantaneously, the look passes, and kind, gentle Baekhyun is back. Minseok tries not to be unsettled.

Jongdae slides into the booth next to Baekhyun. She doesn’t bow to either of them, though she does send a little nod of acknowledgment Minseok’s way. “Are these friends of yours?” She asks, her voice lilting, curious. Again, Minseok’s reminded of Baekhyun. Again, she shelves the thought.

“Yes, uh, this is Chanyeol and, uh,” she pauses unsure if Baekhyun would like to be introduced. After all, they’re in public, and though Minseok recognized her, Baekhyun’s not dressed to deal with fans.

“Baekhyun,” she introduces herself, greeting Jongdae. “You are?”

“Jongdae,” Jongdae says, her voice dropping lower. If Minseok had thought Jongdae might have been flirting with her, seeing her interact with Baekhyun is a whole ‘nother story. She sits neatly, purposefully teasing, blinks her lashes, pouts her curly, cat-like lips.

Minseok’s mouth runs dry. She notices that Baekhyun looks similarly star-struck. Even Chanyeol seems captivated.

Jongdae breaks the spell, continuing, “And where is it that the three of you met? How often does a celebrity get wrapped up with a muggle,” she muses. Minseok snorts.

Baekhyun blinks, “She’s writing a novel, and I thought I’d show her a little help. See if I could help make her scenes a little more vibrant.”

“The romance a little more real?” Jongdae pushes, tongue curling ‘round her teeth. Baekhyun watches, then swallows dryly. Her brows furrow.

Minseok’s never seen anything like it. Has never seen Baekhyun so easily dominated in a conversation by anyone other than Chen and perhaps Yixing. “Perhaps,” Baekhyun mumbles, regarding Jongdae carefully. “How did you two make friends? Minseok’s not the most outgoing from my experience.”

The parties were always a bit much, but Minseok’s the proud friend of… well. Maybe, Baekhyun’s right. 

“We met around here, actually. She was getting tailed by some guys and I intervened. Call me a white knight,” Jongdae explains. “We’ve been keeping in touch.” She says everything far to sensually for someone that’s only a friend; for someone who should have no degree of possession over her. Still, Minseok can’t quite bring her mouth to refute Jongdae’s suggestions.

“Jongdae’s been helping me keep my mind off things,” Minseok says quietly. She looks up to Baekhyun, “but I think you two would get along. You’re both very… captivating,” she mumbles.

The women look at one another for a long moment. Finally, Baekhyun pouts, Jongdae grinning. Whatever silent exchange they’d had has decided it, it’s obvious the women are no longer each other’s antagonist

Minseok’s glad. She really couldn’t deal with that right now.

“Did you two have plans?” Baekhyun asks, nodding between the two of them. 

“We were going to grab some lunch, you’re welcome to join us” Jongdae invites so that Minseok doesn’t have to flounder. 

Chanyeol immediately agrees, patting his tummy emphatically, “I’d love some real food. Café pastries are good, but, man.”

Baekhyun scoffs, but she’s nodding too, grabbing her purse and pulling it into her lap. “I didn’t see either of you order, so if you don’t mind passing on a coffee, why not we head out. Chanyeol has a class soon.”

“What about you?” Minseok asks. “Are you doing anything else today?”

“No schedules for today. My break day,” she explains. “Why do you ask?”

“Perhaps we could hang out,” Jongdae interjects, voice crisp. Minseok’s not sure that’s what she was going to say, but at second thought, it’ll probably be good to have Jongdae around to keep either she or Baekhyun from doing something stupid.

Baekhyun glances at her as they step out of the café and into Baekhyun’s waiting car. Baekhyun tosses Chanyeol the keys so he can drive. “Mhm, as nice as that sounds, I think I’ll pass.”

She’s keeping her distance. Minseok understands. Baekhyun might be a witch, but she’s also a celebrity. Minseok’s been around her enough to see that she’s actually quite wary of strangers.

Still, they go out and they have lunch. It’s a simple affair, all of them chatting, curious about one another, testing the waters. Jongdae is the most prominent voice of them all, easily commanding the conversation, but all too soon, lunch is over and Chanyeol’s class will be starting. 

“We can drop you off, if you’d like?”

“That would be lovely, but of course, do drop off Chanyeol first. We don’t want to make him late,” Minseok says, sliding into the backseat. Jongdae presses in beside her, crowding her against the door. 

They drop off Chanyeol, leaving just Minseok, Baekhyun, and Jongdae in the car. “Minseok’s house is closer,” Jongdae murmurs. “It’d probably be best if you can drop her off first.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flicks over. She doesn’t look particularly interested in having to bring Jongdae anywhere, but she seems less inclined to kick Jongdae out of the car at Minseok’s and leave the two of them alone. 

The tension in the car is palpable. They sit in silence all the way to Minseok’s home, at which point she gets out the car. She waves goodbye to them both, then begins to shut the door.

Before it clicks closed, she sees Jongdae lean forward and begin to say, “so, Baekhyun-ssi,” she says, “when were you going to—“ and then the door is closed, leaving the thought up in the air—incomplete.

Minseok stares at it for a moment, then turns, tramping up the stairs and letting herself inside her apartment door. She stews for a moment, then sits down at her desk and begins recording all that’s happened—even if it never sees the light of day… she needs to put it down. Just in case. Just to have it.

When the moon hangs in the sky, she packs it up. She’s asleep the second her head hits the pillow.

***

She wakes in a pit of gravel, obsidian, and black sand. It coats her naked legs and feet, grits against the palms of her hands, scratches at her back—all of it uncomfortable, all of it a prickling, borderline painful sort of presence. She stands quickly, gaze roving over her environment. She _must_ be dreaming, though, the awareness she has is unfamiliar—and she’s not sure if she’s a fan of it.

The moon hangs above her, bloody and red, its pale glow cast all over the ground. Bones sit around her, some of them clean—as if the flesh has been picked away by birds and maggots. Others still cling to their gore, entrails and sinews rotting in the open air.

It’s a horrible smell—rotting and burning flesh, sulfur, smoke. But beyond that, there’s something crisp, clean, but _oppressive_. A scent that feels more like a taste, a touch, a sound. And it _drags_ down on her.

As though on autopilot, she follows it. Or… attempts to.

But at her first step, the gravel beneath her feet begins to sink, and she with it. It cascades over her, and when she opens her mouth to scream, it chokes her.

She’s deposited in a pool of water, jarringly cold. It’s too quick of a change for her body, thrusting her into shock. Pain sears through her, feeling all too real. Water forces open her lips, rushes down her throat, drowns her.

Minseok kicks her feet, reaching up towards the surface, still able to see the red glow of the moon. Desperate to follow it. To surface. To breath.

A grip brutally strong wraps around her neck and drags her deeper.

Yet again, she seems to pass a threshold, falling through the water and into air once more.

She collapses on a flat, smooth ground. Her body protests the fall, force rocketing through her frame and pressuring her bones and joints. She _swears_ she feels her ribs snap. But she has stopped falling. Now, it is only her labored breaths and the empty cold that surrounds her.

Then, the footsteps, padded like bare feet against tile, but obviously apparent against the silence that surrounds her.

Minseok looks up.

“Jongdae?” She asks, head cocking to the side, eyes blinking furiously against the blurry image of her friend. “Jongdae? What are you doing here?”

Her friend sits down on the ground. She’s dressed in a thin shift, one that barely covers her body and certainly doesn’t protect against the cold, and her hair is long and unkempt, messy and wild. Her _gaze_ is wild.

It’s Jongdae’s face, but it’s not _her_. Not as far as Minseok’s concerned. “Jongdae?” She repeats again.

Again, she goes unanswered. The only response she’s given is Jongdae’s hands coming from behind her back, a book clutched in her hold. The title sits on the front of the book, neat, gilded. _Duxit Mahemium_. The book Jongdae had sold to her at the shop.

Minseok pushes herself up to her feet and reaches out, nudging the book out of the way in favor of inspecting Jongdae for any injuries. Her skin still crawls like she’s being watched, like she’s prey to a predator, but, Jongdae’s unharmed.

She can’t help the sigh she lets out at the fact.

But then, Jongdae’s shoving the book into Minseok’s hands, a grin creeping across her face. The force of the push unsettles Minseok, and though her fingers curl around the edge of the book, she still falls backwards.

And wakes up in a cold sweat, a scream on the tip of her tongue, her breathing labored,quick. Her chest _aches_. Everything from the dream… it feels _real_.

She gets up.

The book is still on her kitchen table, sat there after she’d gotten home that same night she’d bought it. She grabs it in hand, then goes to sit on her carpet, flipping it open on the floor.

The first page is the inscription. At first, the lettering is that of the distinct Roman alphabet, and then, as she watches, it rearranges itself—the letters curl and warp and separate into neat, formal Hangul.

> **_Duxit Mahemium_ **
> 
> _And Brought Her to Mayhem._
> 
> _A collection of spirits and hellions summoned or mentioned across the course of my study. Information is depicted as experienced, or as related. Summoning circles are distinct and accurate. Lists of accepted offerings are distinct and accurate. Names are distinct and accurate._
> 
> _Beware._

Again, she digs her fingers into the pages and flips. There is no rhyme or reason to her action. She does only what comes naturally, impulsively. And when the pages settle once more, she can’t help but acknowledge that _something_ is here with her. Already present, already summoned. Watching, waiting, guiding.

**_CHEN, QUEEN OF MAYHEM_ **

> _Chen is an ancient spirit. She has no mortal tie to Earth, but is said to have been created from the blood of the First Woman, Lilith. One of the first demons to crawl the gravel pits, Chen outranks even the more notable members of Hell and can be attributed to great heavenly faults, such as the Fall of Lucifer and the First Sin. She thrives in chaos, in disorder, in distrust._
> 
> _She attracts a small sect of followers as her tenets are difficult to satisfy. She is a demon that is never satiated. A demon that needs to feed constantly. She requires bodily sacrifice in order to remain tangible in the mortal realm. However, despite her high costs, she is attractive to witches for her values._
> 
> _Chen is associated with pleasure, attraction, luck, desire, and violence. In the event of a successful pact, she grants her followers with a desire. This may not be the desire they audibly speak in the ritual, but can be something left unsaid that even the summoner may not be aware of._
> 
> _But one thing is for certain, Chen does not make a promise she does not intend to keep. Though her way might be convoluted, and cause more strife than intended, she will satisfy her bargain._
> 
> _But last of all, Chen is consumption. She is greed and envy and lust personified. She may be worshipped, but she will always consume her followers in the end. There is no conquest to be had with her—she is too disorganized, too unfocused, too chaotic. She is too powerful to be harnessed in continuum. She cannot be an eternal attachment._

**NOW YOU KNOW ME**. That voice, cruel, but equally alluring. **DON’T YOU?**

A part of Minseok wants to refuse. She knows _nothing_ about Chen, even with this book. Even with the picture of her, with the image of her summoning circle. It might identify Chen to a witch, but Minseok is no witch.

Minseok wants nothing to do with Chen.

“Hardly,” she says.

**OH?**

The books snaps shut, almost violently so.

 **THAT’S NOT RIGHT.** A lull, and then, **I’VE SHARED MORE WITH YOU THAN WITH MY PRIESTESS.**

“Why?” Minseok asks, immediately confused. The silence that follows is a long, pregnant pause. And right when Minseok’s about to give up, thinking the demon has left her, Chen speaks again.

**BECAUSE YOU’RE THE REAL HARBINGER. _YOU_ WILL GIVE ME PANDEMONIUM. _YOU_ WILL FEED ME FOR AN ETERNITY.**

Minseok shakes her head, eyes wide, and shoves the book away from her, scrambling away form it. “No! Why not Baekhyun? I’m not going to give you anything!”

There’s no response other than laughter. It echoes all around her room, rattles inside her head, a headache following it—pulsing, heavy, angry.

The weight in the room seems to bear down on her even heavier than before. She feels exposed, she feels _hunted._

Cold fear and dread rush through her. The type that puts Minseok on her feet and sends her out the door without a second thought, clutching her robe around her—still in her sleepwear. She looks a mess, her hair tangled and matted, her clothes wrinkled, her expression wild.

Rain pours down on her, soaking her to the bone in seconds.

But still, she runs. And it’s not until her mind comes back to her and she stops thinking past the numbing terror that she realizes she is horrifically alone without a phone, without any knowledge of where she is—at night.

She ducks under a bus stop’s overhang, gaze flicking up to a stranger’s. They immediately shy away from her. “Wait, wait, wait,” she says, putting her hands out placatingly. “I’m-” she doesn’t know where to begin. “Could you call someone for me? Please.”

They stare at her, as though judging whether or not she’ll snatch their phone the moment they take it out of their bag, but eventually aquiesce. “What’s the number?” And she gets ready to recite Kyungsoo’s number.

She’s scared now.

She has to get help.

But then, there are more footsteps and Minseok turns, blood turning to ice.

Chanyeol flips down his hood, his book-bag clutched in his arms, haphazard, like everything’s going to spill at any moment. His gaze flickers with recognition. “ _Noona_? What are you doing out here?” He asks, immediately reaching out for her. He tugs her a little farther away from the stranger, who looks significantly pleased to wash their hands of Minseok’s problems. “You must be freezing,” he says, sticking his bag between his knees and hurriedly removing his hoodie, which, while wet, isn’t as soaked through as Minseok’s thin garments.

She accepts it gratefully, even though her mind feels like it's slowed into a numb crawl. Kyungsoo’s face flits at the forefront of her mind, but she can’t bring herself to ask for a phone now. Not with Chanyeol right here.

He lays a heavy hand on her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed, corners of his lips downturned. “Are you okay? You look afraid? Here, I can take you home with me? Is that all right?”

Minseok only nods, lips pressed tightly together, eyes blank.

Across the street, there’s a silhouette in the rain and fog—horned and hellish.

**YOU CANNOT RUN. YOU ARE _MINE._**

***

Chanyeol takes her to Baekhyun’s, but the house is empty. “Baekhyun and Yifan should be coming home in a couple of hours or so—they went out to a friend’s for dinner,” Chanyeol explains, setting his bag down on the ground next to where he’s kicked off his shoes. He turns then, looking at Minseok. She’s barefoot, soaked through, and wide-eyed.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says quietly. “I’ll go start a bath for you.”

She follows him upstairs, stripping out of her clothes and stepping into the shower while Chanyeol focuses on making sure the bath water flows out warm. He puts in a cup of epsom salts, the lavender type meant to help relieve stress, and puts a drop of oil into a nearby diffuser—all to make the bath as relaxing, as calming, as it could possibly be.

He looks away when Minseok steps out of the shower, but offers her his arm as she steps into the tub.

Her hand tightens around his wrist when he moves to leave. “Please don’t go,” she mumbles. “I don’t want to be alone. I’m afraid.”

So, Chanyeol stays. He doesn’t ask any questions, just sits beside the tub and chats with her, his voice a low rumble—soothing and warm.

Then, “Where’d you get those bruises?” he asks. “I thought you said you were okay?”

Minseok looks down her chest, at the purpling marks that stroke across her ribs, the red and blue blooms distorted by the water of the tub, but unmistakably painful.

“I had a dream,” she says quietly. “I think I’m possessed,” she continues, almost laughing at the sheer shock of it all. “Oh my god.” She blinks. “I’m fucking possessed.”

Chanyeol frowns, eyes wide. “Noona, I’m not sure that’s the case. The ceremony, it doesn’t make you-”

Minseok glances at him, her gaze unnecessarily cold. She twists, pulling her wet hair over her shoulder and exposing her back. The scars dug by Chen’s nails glisten under the light, water dewing over top them. She looks back at Chanyeol, exposes her throat, the scars torn by Yixing’s blade and the demon’s nails yet again.

Motions down her body, at the bruising that colors her abdomen.

“Chanyeol. It’s fucking haunting me,” she says, her voice shaking. “It was in my _house_. It’s going to kill me.” She remembers the book. “All of this, all of what you worship. It’s a game to It. It’s not going to last. Baekhyun’s _blind_. Yixing’s _blind_. They don’t even know what they’re getting into.”

Chanyeol shakes his head, “You don’t know anything about Chen,” he argues. “And that’s okay. You’re still learning. The induction can be scary, but I promise we’re all here to help you-”

“Listen to me!” Minseok hisses, she reaches out, grabs his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks in her intensity. “I’m speaking from experience. This isn’t a fairytale. It’s not going to end well. Chen is not here to serve. Chen’s here for _war_. For chaos, for violence, for greed, for envy, for lust. She’s going to tear you apart. She’s going to tear us _all_ apart.”

Chanyeol’s quiet.

Then, “I won’t tell Baekhyun or Yixing about this,” he promises, his eyes doe-like, innocent, afraid. He pulls out of her grip. “Please be careful, Minseok. Chen’s not like that. You’re safe like this. You’re one of hers.”

Minseok’s hands drop limply back into the water. She rests her forehead on the porcelain lip of the tub, sighing. She’s trying to warn him. Why can’t he just _see_?

She doesn’t know how long she stays like that, head hanging over the lip of the tub. It’s uncomfortable, but she can’t bring herself to move. She’s too tired, genuinely drained of any hope. And the despair weighs on her like a physical anchor, tugging her down, down, _down_.

The bathroom door clicks open. She doesn’t look up.

“Minseok?” Baekhyun’s voice echoes through the room. Her feet pad across the floor, and she lowers herself at the bathtub’s edge, instantly carding her fingers through Minseok’s wet hair. “What happened?”

Minseok doesn’t answer for a moment, unsure of what she can even say. “I’m afraid,” she finally settles on, looking up, wide-eyes focused on Baekhyun’s droopy gaze. “I think I’m haunted,” she mumbles.

Baekhyun’s gaze flits over the scarring on her back, at the bruising down her sides. She seems at a loss for words.

So, instead, she hooks her hands beneath Minseok’s armpits and hauls her up out of the water and out onto the soft carpet just outside the tub. Then, she withdraws to grab a towel and robe, helping to dry Minseok off and slipping the fuzzy white robe over her shoulders.

She picks Minseok up, then, cradling her to her chest and walking her out of the bathroom and into the bed, where she sits against the headboard, Minseok’s head in her lap, and massages her shoulders. And it’s soothing, _sure_ , but Baekhyun’s non-answer’s only let Minseok’s heart to sink even more.

“I know it’s all new,” Baekhyun starts, her voice just a note above a whisper, “but… I went through it too. It’s worth it, Minseok.”

Minseok’s throat tightens. She feels like crying. “But what if it isn’t?” She mumbles. She’s not even sure Baekhyun hears her, because there’s no response to that. None at all.

***

In the morning, she feels like she’s got her head on her shoulders again. She’s still afraid, but the panic of the night before has subsided. It’s become a duller, more familiar fear. A consequence that looms on the horizon, but not an imminent threat. And, because of this, Minseok feels like she’s able to think rationally again. Thinks she’ll be able to start working on an escape. Because at this point, she’s in too deep—Baekhyun, charismatic as she is, is becoming more monstrous by the day, if only for her abject ignorance of consequence.

Baekhyun’s not in the bed when she wakes up, which gives Minseok a blessed few minutes to gather herself and figure out a game plan for the day. She ought to get out of here as soon as she can and go see Kyungsoo and Jongin. See if they can help her. She doesn’t even care about bringing Baekhyun down at this point. She wants to get _out_.

She looks around herself, gaze falling onto the vanity mirror. In the reflection, there’s a figure, stood just behind her, shadowy and ghostly. She does not turn around, though her eyes do flutter closed, a streak of fear lancing through her heart.

When she opens her eyes, it’s gone, but she _knows_ it’s still there. Chen’s still there.

She goes downstairs, hoping to run into Yifan (who’ll probably be more than happy to excuse her from the house). But, she stops at the bottom of the stairs, mouth drying out, tongue turning to cotton.

Zhang Yixing sits at the breakfast table, sleek and strict as always, her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her clothes sharp, conservative. She has an aura both off-putting and entrancing, much like Baekhyun. But, where Baekhyun’s danger is measured, Yixing _exudes_ it.

Her gaze flits over to Minseok’s.

She doesn’t smile.

“Minseok, come join us,” she beckons. And this has Minseok glancing around the room. Baekhyun’s here, cooking toast, as is Chanyeol and Sehun. No one else, though.

She presses her lips in a fine line and steps off the stairs, walking over to the table and taking a seat. It’s so quiet, only the scrape of the chair leg against the floor breaking it. The tension remains thick and dangerous, though. Somehow, Minseok _knows_ something’s wrong. That she’s going to have to change her plans.

Judging by the way Chanyeol’s gaze has been resolutely focused on the floor _since_ she entered the room, it probably has something to do with what she said to him. He _promised_ he wouldn’t tell.

“Chanyeol’s worried about you,” Yixing says curtly, confirming Minseok’s suspicions. “He said you’re having doubts already.” Minseok’s pretty sure the most important word in that sentence is the _already_ , not that she’s having doubts.

“When dealing with higher powers, it’s natural to be afraid. They are, after all, unfamiliar to most,” Yixing continues, eyes dark and focused. Minseok looks past her, at Baekhyun, who meets her gaze concerned, but ultimately, unafraid. It gives Minseok _some_ confidence, but not much. “But, the behavior Chanyeol described is… concerning. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Minseok clears her throat, looking back at Yixing. Her hands remain in her lap, calm and poised, as though she were at a job interview. “I was afraid, and I still am afraid. My induction did not go as planned, to my understanding, and since it, I’ve dealt with consistent visions and spectres. I think I have a right to be afraid. But I can be loyal and afraid”

Yixing’s eyes glitter, and eyebrow arching. “You’re seeing spectres?”

“That’s what I said,” Minseok says calmly. “Do you _not_?”

And if Yixing had been momentarily open to discussion, now she’s become a wall of apathy again, her eyes narrowing dangerously, her mouth setting once more. The twitch of her jaw further reveals that Minseok’s comment must have touched a nerve. “Not everyone’s born with an inclination to _see_ the arcane,” Yixing says lightly.

There’s a lull in the conversation as Yixing seems to choose her words.

Then, “I think your doubts are far too many for your excuses, Kim Minseok. How can I be sure you’re as loyal as you say you are? Chanyeol said it looked like you were going to run away.”

“Give me a test. I am loyal.” Minseok answers, as calm as she can, though now, her worries are growing in volume. She doesn’t _actually_ want to dig a deeper hole, but here and now, she’s not sure she’ll be able to leave this house if she doesn’t prove herself and regain their trust some more.

Yixing taps her chin, “I’m not sure that’s—“

“Let her bring someone new to us,” Baekhyun interjects. “If she can do it, honestly do it, then not only is she loyal, but she’s valuable.”

Minseok glances at her, almost wants to ask _what’s your angle_? But she remains quiet, mind racing. Is Baekhyun protecting her, or setting her up for failure?

Yixing hums, “I’m not sure Ms. Kim even has friends, from my interactions with her. She _is_ something of a homebody, as you’ve described,” she says, gazing pointedly at Baekhyun. The other cultist seems to flounder for a moment.

“I know someone,” Minseok says quietly. “I—“ she cuts herself off. To commit to this, or not? “Her name’s Kim Jongdae.”

Yixing’s quiet. “And this Kim Jongdae? You think you’ll be able to bring her in? Show her _salvation_.”

 _Salvation, my ass_ , Minseok thinks, but she nods anyways.

Minseok finds herself back home a few hours later. Baekhyun hadn’t offered her any help with luring Kim Jongdae in, nor had any of the others. And, the tension between she and Chanyeol was stifling—so she’d left as soon as she’d been given the chance.

And now that she’s not being watched, and has returned home, she makes to call Kyungsoo. But her finger hovers over his contact.

He was right, and she was _wrong, wrong, wrong_. And it’s not that she thinks he’ll judge her for it outright, but… she’s already embarassed by the thought of asking for help this late in the game. How does she explain that she’s ignored every single parcel of advice she’s been offered without sounding like an _idiot_?

Who cares? Being humiliated is so much better than continuing with all of this madness.

She presses his contact, waiting for the screen to flicker to the call interface.

But it doesn’t.

She presses it again, wondering if it’s only an error in the touch screen. But again, it fails.

**SURELY YOU DON’T THINK THAT’LL WORK, DO YOU?**

She dare not look up and around her room. She doesn’t _want_ to confront the source of that voice. Doesn’t want to confront the possibility that something, or even nothing, is there. But even so, the voice is too loud to ignore. It’s too prominent to pretend doesn’t exist. It’s just another proof that Minseok’s _fucked_. Absolutely, terribly, _fucked_.

“I hoped,” she mumbles. There’s no further response, but still, she stands there, staring down at the now dim screen of her phone. Still, she doesn’t want to look up, to confront her new world order. Her haunt.

In time, the phone rings in her hand, and, childishly, she hopes to see Kyungsoo’s name emblazoned on the Caller ID. But, of course, that would be too kind.

Instead, the ID reads Jongdae’s name, and that… is terrifying in and of itself. Because Minseok may be struggling now, but she’s struggling alone. If she fails, the only person she’s hurting is herself. But, if she goes along with her promise to Yixing. If she drags Jongdae into this mess, too? Then she’s responsible for the both of them.

She answers anyways. “Hello?”

 _“Hey!_ ” Comes Jongdae’s chipper voice from the other end of the line. _“Something told me you were in need of some company, so I wanted to check in on you?”_ She wonders aloud. Minseok’s almost impressed, but Jongdae’s long had this habit of being in the right place at the right time. It’s… strange.

It reminds her of all the ways the Cult’s managed to tie back to Jongdae, actually. That book, _Duxit Mahemium_ , told her about Chen, and that was from Jongdae. And those earrings Jongdae had been wearing the day she met Baekhyun reminded her a lot of the earrings they offered to Chen. It’s actually, _quite_ odd, and though Minseok stews on it for a moment, she ultimately brushes it off.

“I’m all right,” she lies, and then, thinking better on it, says, “Actually, I’m really not. But, I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it.”

 _“Oh? You already know I’m good at listening. Maybe we should meet up and talk it out? That could help?”_ Jongdae suggests. She’s really too kind for her own good.

And honestly, Minseok does need to talk. Maybe she can even get help from Jongdae? “Actually, yeah, I’d love to talk. Can you come to mine?”

_“Of course, you sound worried?”_

“A little, I’ve got a lot to unpack,” Minseok says, as lightly as she can muster, “But I have to warn you. It’s a bit… insane, and I totally understand if you don’t want to—“

 _“I can deal with a little mayhem,”_ Jongdae says, “ _Don’t worry. I’ll head over soon!”_ She says her goodbyes and then, hangs up the call, leaving Minseok alone.

Fleetingly, she tries to call Kyungsoo again, but just like earlier, she can’t seem to. With a sigh, she tosses her phone off to the side, and puts her head in her hands.

A minute or two later, she looks back up and decides she may as well make them some tea, just so she can _pretend_ to be a good host.

Forty minutes later sees Jongdae stepping over the threshold and into her house. “Oh, wow, is your place haunted?” She wonders aloud.

 _Ha_ , Minseok thinks. “Honestly, yeah, it is,” she says, holding up a mug, wordlessly asking Jongdae if she’d like some tea as well. The other woman nods, setting her purse down on the floor and then planting herself on Minseok’s ratty couch.

Minseok brings over the tea and takes a seat next to her, taking a long sip to mull over where to begin. Then, she sighs. Maybe it’s better to just be outright with things. At worst, Jongdae calls the cops, or simply cuts contact with Minseok—and both of those options are preferable to getting some innocent woman caught up in all of this, even if Minseok ends up taking the fall herself.

“This is going to sound crazy, but—“ she trails off, gathers her courage, “—I sort of got involved in a cult and now they want me to introduce someone else to it.”

“I’m sure that telling someone outright that it’s a cult isn’t how indoctrinating them typically goes,” Jongdae drawls, taking that bombshell surprisingly well. “And it’s Baekhyun-ssi’s, isn’t it? I remember reading a few articles about that back in the day.”

 _What?_ Minseok thinks, _shocked_.

She must say it aloud too, because Jongdae’s cocking her head, eyes glittering. “She’s magnetic. It’s not that hard to believe. If I remember correctly, the only thing the allegations lacked was actual, solid proof.”

Minseok shakes her head, “Yeah, no, that’s exactly what they lacked. I’m still—you took that really well? For someone I barely know? Are you not afraid?”

Jongdae shrugs, “I thought I already expressed that I had more than a passing interest in the occult. The bigger question here is how _you_ ended up a part of a cult. You don’t seem like the type to even seek it out in the first place.”

“I used to work in entertainment journalism, I think I may have mentioned it?” Minseok says immediately. “I was going to break the exposé on Baekhyun and her cult. Was also going to turn in any evidence I found to the police. But Baekhyun’s… she’s nice to _me_ , and I fell too deep. She’s a villain, for sure, but I didn’t account for how different she could be. There’s two sides of her, you know?”

“That makes more sense,” Jongdae says, sipping her tea. “You seem too rational to let the cult-side of things get to you. But you seem like the romantic type. Did you let attraction get in the way?”

Minseok nods, biting the inside of her lip. _God_ , it’s humiliating to admit that Baekhyun’s gotten the best of her just because she’s been thinking with her heart, not her head.

“Gosh, that’s awful,” Jongdae tuts, eyebrows downturning worriedly. “But if you’re so afraid, why haven’t you called the cops?”

Well, Minseok hasn’t tried, but… she picks up her phone and attempts to dial. Nothing happens though, just like earlier, with Kyungsoo. “I can’t seem to call anyone,” Minseok explains. “I tried calling a friend for advice on how to get out, but, _it_ won’t let me.”

“It?”

“Chen,” Minseok whispers, immediately looking around to see if the mention of the demon’s name has it crawling up from whatever depths it typically resides in. Nothing appears, though. “It’s haunting me. I think I’m possessed, actually,” she mutters.

Jongdae’s eyes flash, but she remains calm. Minseok’s impressed, but Jongdae’s always had an unflappable sort of personality (at least from all experiences Minseok’s had with her). “Okay, well let’s take things one at a time. Start from the beginning, and let’s see what we can do.”

“You’ll really help me?”

“Of course, I’ll try,” Jongdae says, eyes softening. “I don’t think anyone deserves to get caught up in all of this.”

So, Minseok starts from the very beginning, actually filling in all of the details she’d originally left out when she first met Jongdae. She continues talking, pausing intermittently if only to catch her breath, or allow Jongdae to ask a few clarifying questions. But otherwise? It pours out of her. She’s needed to get this off her chest. And while she doesn’t feel _perfect_ after relaying it all, she does feel better. Like she’s cleared her head and can now _try_ and fix things.

“But Yixing, I think she was going to try and hurt me or something, because Baekhyun interrupted and proposed that I convert someone as a way to prove my loyalty.” Minseok wrings her hands together, “I think she’s torn between trying to protect me and listening to Yixing. She’s _really_ serious about Chen, and Yixing’s the one who introduced her to it.”

Jongdae nods, “So, you said you’d bring me in?”

“I said I would try. I don’t think Yixing thinks I can do it, though,” she murmurs. “I’m really sorry, your name was the only one that came to mind and I knew I couldn’t say one of my coworker’s names because they would have _never_ entertained the idea of it, even if it would help for them to just _pretend_.”

“It’s okay, I swear, it’s all right,” Jongdae placates, wrapping her hands around Minseok’s and squeezing soothingly. “It sounds like you didn’t have much of a choice. But honestly, I can play along, if you want? Maybe then, you can actually get some solid evidence. So when we do go to the police, we can make sure that she can’t retaliate, right?”

Again, Minseok feels like, maybe this wasn’t quite what she was gearing for. Sure, she wants to make sure Baekhyun can’t hurt anyone else, but she’s so afraid that this is going to backfire. She doesn’t want to keep playing nice just to get evidence. She’s worried it’ll just dig her a deeper hole.

But, Minseok’s always had a big heart. And with Jongdae as a support, maybe she _can_ do this. Maybe she _can_ keep Baekhyun from hurting anyone else. From disappearing anyone else.

“Are you sure?” She asks.

Jongdae nods. “I think we can do it together. I think you’re problem was that you were alone. But, with me there, I’m sure we’ll be able to get _something_ ,” she reasons out.

And yeah, that does sound plausible.

“Okay. I hope you’re a good actress.”

“I’m the _best_ , darling,” Jongdae purrs, eyes flashing with hundreds of little secrets. Minseok doesn’t think anything of them, too focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. Of the chance to fulfill her original mission and to get out of all of this.

***

Minseok finds herself at Baekhyun’s a few days later. She’d been invited, Baekhyun telling her that both Yifan and Chanyeol were going to Japan on a small trip of their own, and that she was lonely without anyone to spend time with.

Minseok’s never really been able to refuse her, but she also wants to try and figure out where Baekhyun stands, and just how careful she ought to be with the other woman. Because Yixing already sets off every warning bell in Minseok’s head, and while Baekhyun feels dangerous too (and Minseok _knows_ she’s dangerous), Minseok’s also grown used to having Baekhyun defend her. She wants to know if whatever Chanyeol had explained has changed Baekhyun’s heart, and if it has, she needs to win it back before she gets Jongdae involved.

Because love’s the easiest way to manipulate someone, and if she wants to stay safe, she has to have _some_ hold over Baekhyun. It’s the only thing that evens things out.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Baekhyun murmurs, returning to the room. She’s balancing a paper plate of cookies, cereal, and other sweet foods, with a jar of peanut butter nestled in the crook of her arm. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I started talking to Jongdae,” she explains. “I’m trying to figure out how best to… I don’t know, test the water with her?”

Baekhyun hums. “I’m kind of surprised you agreed, to be honest—“

“I really don’t think I had a choice,” Minseok says drily, “but, I’m trying to make the best of it. You promise that, if she joins, she’s not going to go through the same sort of ritual I did, right? I don’t want her hurt.”

Baekhyun shakes her head, “Yixing and I have already talked. She swore she would never do that again. It shouldn’t have even happened to you.”

Minseok looks away, nodding slowly. Baekhyun lets the silence hang for a moment, then, brandishes a peanut butter-covered-cookie. “Here, get your mind off of it,” she offers, passing her the cookie, which she accepts, though belatedly. “When it comes to introducing something like this, the easiest way is to just get to know someone. It comes more naturally after that. Like you and I. You wanted to know more about me, so I took us that extra step and introduced you to Chen, because she’s important to me.”

Most relationships probably don’t consider membership in a Cult or affection for demons as “extra steps” in getting to know one another, but to each their own.

“Maybe a dinner,” Baekhyun suggests. “You could invite her over tonight, if you want?”

“I didn’t get the feeling that you liked her very much, from when we met in the coffeeshop,” Minseok mutters.

“We chat on my way to drop her off,” Baekhyun explains with a shrug, “She seems all right. I understand why you befriended her. She’s _captivating_ ,” she continues, her tone a low purr.

Minseok eyes her warily, trying to figure out her angle, but she dismisses it. “You sound like you’re _interested_ ,” she teases.

Baekhyun laughs, “You’re the one for me, though _you_ look at her like she’s your stars and moon.” And Minseok doesn’t really like having her question flipped on her, but she’s curious as to what Baekhyun’s poking at.

“She’s pretty,” Minseok agrees, “but if you think I’m interested in her, I’m not. There’s no need to be jealous,” she jokes.

“Not jealous, just suggestive,” Baekhyun murmurs. She leans closer, breath washing over Minseok’s neck uncomfortably warm, but sweet and heady. “Do you _really_ think I’m the jealous type?”

“I’m not sure what you’re suggesting,” Minseok deflects.

Baekhyun shrugs, “Well, romance is the easiest way to get someone involved,” she explains. And that causes a pang in Minseok’s heart, but she says nothing. “It’s best if its organic, and well, if you and _I_ find her pretty, what’s stopping us from having a little fun with her?”

This is dangerous. This is crossing a line Minseok ought not to cross.

“I think it’d be wrong to manipulate her like that,” Minseok says.

Baekhyun sighs, “It just helps to figure someone out through affection. They’re more naked with their thoughts. You’d waste less time. It doesn’t mean the romance has to be fake,” she murmurs, nuzzling into Minseok’s neck as though to prove a point. “Ours isn’t, is it?”

 _Is it?_ That’s the question, isn’t it? Minseok still feels like she’s faking it, hell she’s using it to manipulate Baekhyun, and she’s always been worried Baekhyun’s knowingly using it to manipulate _her_ , so is it real? Is it really?

“It’s real,” Minseok soothes, turning to press a kiss to the corner of Baekhyun’s lips. God, she tastes so sweet, like candy. A real sweetheart. “And I guess I see what you mean,” she mumbles onwards. “But, if she’s not interested, I don’t want to force it, or scare her off.”

“I think she’s plenty interested,” Baekhyun murmurs, “but that’s fair. I won’t come on too hard, I promise.”

“Okay,” Minseok sighs, “then, yeah, I’ll call and see if she’s up for an impromptu dinner.” She excuses herself to make the call outside, in the evening light, and far from Baekhyun’s prying eyes.

Jongdae picks up on the third ring, _“What’s up? Time for some cult stuff?”_

“Yeah, Baekhyun wanted to invite you over to dinner. Uh, as a fair warning, she wants to play a romance angle with you. Says it’s easier to figure out if someone’s receptive to the whole cult thing. So, play along maybe? I’m sorry?”

 _“No, that sounds like it’ll make things interesting,”_ Jongdae says, seemingly always the optimist. _“Send me the address? I’ll get ready now and be there in a little bit.”_

“Will do, and remember, you don’t know _anything_ about the cult, okay?” Minseok says. Jongdae gives her the affirmative, then hangs up. Minseok quickly texts her Baekhyun’s address.

Minseok returns inside. “So, _what_ will we be having for dinner?”

Baekhyun’s perched next to the kitchen counter, a stack of takeout menus spread across the island, her phone clutched in hand. “I was thinking we could do a throwback and have Thai from that place where _we_ first ate together, or we could go for the American-style place Yifan recommended I try. Said he and Chanyeol enjoyed it when they went.”

Minseok takes a look at the menus, there’s a diverse array of options from homestyle Korean cooking to French dessert menus and Indian kitchens. It’s a good selection. But, Minseok _did_ like that Thai place. “I’m down from Thai,” she says.

Baekhyun nods, “That’s what I was feeling too. Do you know what Jongdae would like?”

“Sorry, no,” Minseok says, “But I think if we just get a little bit of everything, that would cover all the bases. I doubt she’s _too_ picky. Not pickier than you.”

Baekhyun rolls her eyes. “I don’t like cucumbers,” she says, “that’s hardly _picky_.”

“You have the palate of a child,” Minseok jokes, ruffling Baekhyun’s wavy hair playfully. “Not a critique, just an observation. No need to get in a tizzy,” she continues, teasing.

Baekhyun snorts, then dials the Thai place. They’re capable of doing delivery, which is nice, so she orders a good portion of food and then, grabs her keys. “I’m going to go to the nearest ATM and pick up some cash to tip the driver,” she says, “You can sit tight here. If Jongdae comes early, entertain her!”

Then, she’s disappearing through the door, leaving Minseok alone in her house.

The last time this happened, Minseok had explored and had dealt with the spirit in the mirror. Now, though, she thinks she might go further, exploring the master bedroom that she’d had to avoid last time (since Baekhyun was asleep in it).

She hurries up the stairs, finding her way into the room easily. At first glance, everything’s normal. She checks a few of the drawers in the vanity, but nothing catches her eye. She stands back and looks around the room again, looking for _anything_ out of place.

The only thing that seems to stand out is a tall, floor length mirror leaning against one of the walls to the right of the bed, opposite the bathroom. Given she has a vanity mirror, Minseok doesn’t really see a need for the floor-length one (especially since she has one in her bathroom already), and she’s curious as to why it’s not mounted to the wall when the rest of the master bedroom is so orderly and pristine. It makes the room look unfinished. Unless…

She walks over, wrapping her fingers around the edge, and she pushes it aside as carefully as she humanly can. It reveals a door-shaped cut out in the walling. She pushes against it, pressing it farther into the wall, then releases it, grinning when it pops out far enough for her to get her nails under the edge and pull it open.

It reveals a closet full of materials. Animal skulls, crystals, clothing, jewelry. Not the type of things Baekhyun might wear to a showing or anything, but the type of clothes that she’d have worn for a cult ritual. In fact, Minseok thinks she recognizes one of the dresses from one of the rituals _she’d_ witnessed.

She steps inside, musing over the different shelves. On one of them, there’s a few books, which Minseok takes from their places and spreads on the table inside the closet. She flips the first open, revealing several photographs, some captioned, others not. Some depict cult rituals, or gatherings, if Minseok were to guess—seeing as she recognizes most of these people from the photos as those who were at her induction. Others depict Baekhyun and Yixing alone, suggesting that the two are closer than Minseok’s ever really witnessed personally.

Another photo catches her eye. Kang Iseul’s name is captioned beneath it. She’s young compared to Baekhyun and Yixing as they’re pictured with her, and appears to be close to Sehun’s age. She’s got a sort of dazzle to her gaze, though, a brightness to her features that Minseok’s immediately attracted to. Her mind flits back to that article from Park Yoora that she’d read, remembering that the disappearances tended to be upcoming stars. Girls presumed to dominate their field over time.

Kang Iseul looks like she’s got that fire, that charism to have made it big.

Minseok flips the page, looking for another picture of her. She finds nothing more in the book, though she does find the other missing girls, some of them pictured in the same ceremonial dresses as she sees hanging in the closet now.

She closes the book, but not before taking a few photos of the book and putting them in the ‘hidden’ folder of her camera roll. She doesn’t want to chance Baekhyun seeing them.

She checks the time. Baekhyun’s about a twenty minute drive from the city, and the nearest bank. She’s got fifteen more minutes before she should head downstairs and wait for her to get back. Ten to be safe.

Minseok opens the second book, this one’s got a dark cover emblazoned with letters in a language she doesn’t recognize. The pages are also filled with this unintelligible language, though the drawings suggest it’s much like the grimoire she’d bought from Jongdae’s bookshop. Perhaps, this is Baekhyun’s Book of Shadows, then. She closes it and sticks it on the shelf, snapping a few pictures and hiding them before she puts it back. Then, she looks around again, at the knick-knacks and other trophies that seem to lay about the room.

Her eyes settle on the darkest corner of the closet, where the light from the doorway _hardly_ reaches, and she gasps. There’s a skull. Human, for sure, and by Minseok’s judgment, it’s real.

She crouches down near it and picks it up, turning it over in her hand. It’s a female skull, with several cracks in the side, as though whoever it had belonged to had been bludgeoned in order to harvest it. Minseok continues to scan it, hoping there might be _something_ that helps to identify it. And she finds it in the form of a thin crack running up the back of the skull’s head, seemingly unrelated to the bludgeoning. It _could_ still be a result of whatever cause the other fractures, but, this one looks to have started healing.

Maybe one of the disappeared girls had suffered an injury that there was record of. It’s not much, but it’s something. Minseok takes another set of pictures, careful to get the fracture lines, then sets the skull down and returns the room to an orderly state. She replaces the mirror in front of the door, and then, makes her way downstairs.

Not five minutes later, Baekhyun’s car is pulling up outside and she’s returning through the foyer. “You won’t believe the dog I saw on my way over there. A corgi! It was _so_ cute, Minseok,” she bubbles, setting her purse and keys down next to the counter and slapping a thick wad of cash atop it. Minseok can’t count how much it is, nor does she know if Baekhyun plans to give the delivery driver all of it, but it certainly _looks_ like a lot.

Then again, the driver does have to come quite far out, with a huge order nonetheless, and Minseok’s always in favor of giving generously.

“I’m sure it was very cute,” Minseok says, washing herself of the complicated feelings that always come with confronting Baekhyun’s villainy. This Baekhyun, the one in the kitchen, isn’t the same Baekhyun who disappears those girls. This Baekhyun’s sweet. The other is a product of intense manipulation, Minseok would bet on it.

“Is Jongdae on her way yet?” Baekhyun asks, cocking her head. As though on cue, the doorbell rings. Baekhyun’s eyes widen, and she blinks cutely. “You go get the door for her.”

But it turns out to be the delivery driver, who hands over bags of food to Minseok while Baekhyun tips them the fat wad of cash, brushing off their thanks in order to give her own. “We love your food,” she tells the driver, passing another bag off to Minseok, eyes flashing deviously as though she loves to see Minseok struggle to balance it all.

Minseok rolls her eyes and retreats into the home, starting to transfer the different dishes into actual serving plates that she sets out on the table. Baekhyun joins her a few minutes later, gushing about how sweet the workers from the restaraunt are as she helps Minseok get everything in a plate.

Minutes later, the doorbell rings again. This time it _has_ to be Jongdae, so Minseok hurries to go get it, grinning when it reveals her. She’s dressed nice, but still casual, wearing a trendy white blouse with a plunging neckline and a pair of flowy, black pants that accentuate the willowy thinness of her body.

She smiles at Minseok in greeting, glancing past her and into the house, looking semi-awed to be there. Minseok’s pretty sure she’d looked the same when she’d first come here as well. “Welcome to Baekhyun’s,” Minseok says. “We got Thai for dinner.”

“I love Thai food,” Jongdae grins, following Minseok through the foyer and into the dining room.

Baekhyun grins sweetly in greeting, cocking her head playfully, her pretty blonde waves falling into her face. Jongdae seems instantly charmed. “You look better than you did when we first met, Baekhyun-ssi.”

Because when they’d first met, Baekhyun had been trying to avoid being photographed, and had also looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

“You can call me Baekhyun,” Baekhyun says, letting Jongdae drop the honorific. “And I was dealing with second-thoughts when you met me,” she murmurs, “I’m more confident now,” she purrs. And she _looks_ it. Like a cat that’s got the cream. She’s perfectly at ease in this situation. She’s in her _element_.

She’s sat at the head of the table, so Minseok takes the seat next to her, and Jongdae takes the seat on the opposite side of Minseok, all of them keeping a small corner of the table to themselves.

The first half an hour is mostly spent eating and chatting idly. They serve themselves, then talk about a range of topics, from Jongdae’s time working at the bookstore (which explains how she and Minseok must have met, since Minseok’s a ‘novelist’), to Baekhyun’s latest acting project.

“So, where’s your husband?” Jongdae asks after a while, sitting back to sip on her wine. Minseok raises a brow and glances over to Baekhyun, who seems unconcerned by the question and implication.

“He’s out with his boyfriend,” she says honestly, drawling out the words without a care in the world. And that’s the first she’s ever confronted the reality of her relationship, even to Minseok.

Jongdae cocks her head, “Curious,” she says, taking another sip of her wine. “Then what does that make you?”

Baekhyun raises a brow, “Still his wife, but only for convenience. I prefer women, myself,” she lets out easily, eyes glittering flirtily.

“Is that so?” Jongdae hums, “Then we all have something in common, huh?”

Minseok snorts, but she’s not wrong. They probably have a lot more in common too, but that’s a good place to start. “I suppose so,” Minseok says.

“What about you, Kim Jongdae? Have a lover?” Baekhyun questions, her tone light enough to make this all seem like the typical dinner table gossip. It’s rather smooth the way she dominates a conversation, makes her grabs for information sound like normal small-talk.

Jongdae shakes her head, “No, but I certainly have my eyes set on someone,” she says.

This gets Baekhyun’s attention, and she taps her fingers against the table interestedly. “Oh? Tell us about them,” she presses.

Jongdae grins, “Mhm. She’s short, cute, and a little in over her head with things. But she’s very curious, very adventurous, if you ask me,” she explains. And, Minseok doesn’t want to preen or anything, but that sounds a _lot_ like her, if she has anything to say in the matter.

“Sounds like someone I know,” Baekhyun murmurs, voice like honey.

“Perhaps she _is_ someone you know,” Jongdae says, and the tension in the room seems to rise exponentially from there. Minseok prefers to observe, letting Baekhyun and Jongdae talk themselves in circles. It’s interesting their dynamic. Half of the time, it seems envious, like they’re trying to get one up on the other. The other half, it seems like they are kindred spirits—genuinely similar people with similar interests and desires.

It’s curious to see unfold, and Minseok _almost_ feels like everything’s rushing forward all too fast.

“Minseok mentioned you work at a bookstore. She was telling me about the grimoire she bought from you the other day.”

“Oh, _Duxit Mahemium_? I thought she’d like it ‘cause I liked it, but I’ll admit, I probably liked it since I’m into the occult and whatnot.”

“Ah, what is it about the occult you like so much?” Baekhyun questions, cocking her head.

Jongdae shrugs, “I like the pacts, the devotion, the magic, the sacrifice. I think it has all the ingredients for a good story. It’s got the romance, the conflict, the triumph, the failure,” she reasons. “It’s the perfect mold of fantasy and reality. Not everything is real, but _everything_ has consequences.”

Baekhyun holds her gaze for a long while. “I think you’re very right,” she ends up saying, clearly charmed by Jongdae’s observations. But, she doesn’t press the matter, even though Jongdae’s already looking like the type of person she’d readily welcome.

The rest of the dinner goes by without incident as they drift onto safer topics. And eventually, they’re cleaning up, and Jongdae’s leaving for the night.

Minseok and Baekhyun fall onto the couch together, after everything’s been packed away and stuffed into the fridge, and all of the plates and utensils are cleaned, and practically _bask_ in the afterglow of such a date.

“She’s perfect,” Baekhyun whispers, gathering Minseok up against her chest, spooning her comfortably. She’s still got a glass of wine in hand, but Minseok’s finished hers and lies with her hands pressed close to her chest, comfortable and protective.

Minseok sighs, “You think so?”

“I know so. And, I rest my point from earlier, she _is_ interested in you, kitty cat,” Baekhyun nips at her ear playfully, teasingly. Her free hand smooths down the front of Minseok’s shirt and presses against her tummy warmly. “I think you made a good choice,” she says lower, with more meaning. She must be talking about the cult now. Not something as light as romance. “She’ll fit right in, I think. And she already trusts you so much,” Baekhyun murmurs, sliding her hand into the waistband of Minseok’s pants and just keeping it there.

Minseok would prefer not to think about that. Sure, it was the whole purpose, but, when Baekhyun does this, says this, it’s harder to separate her from the violent person Minseok knows she is. When she talks about the cult like this, when they’re just lying together, perfectly happy and relaxed, Minseok’s forced to confront that even this version of her isn’t… _her_.

She doesn’t say anything more, content to lay in Baekhyun’s arms. And soon, every thought becomes like white noise, and she’s able to fall asleep, matching the slow rhythm of Baekhyun’s breath.

And dare she think it, but it’s _nice_.

She feels _loved_.

***

“So, I found these while Baekhyun was at the ATM getting cash for the driver,” Minseok says a couple of days later, sat on the carpet in her living room with a fresh mug of tea and Jongdae across from her. She inputs her password for her ‘hidden’ photo album and passes it over to Jongdae, who begins flipping through it immediately.

“Is this real?” She asks aloud, flipping the phone around to show Minseok that she’s on the pictures of the skull.

“I don’t know, but I think so,” Minseok says. “I actually wanted to research that one. It’s got a nearly healed fracture on the back of the skull that seemed unrelated to the fresher fractures,” she explains, reaching over to grab her laptop.

She pulls open the original article on Baekhyun’s potential involvement in a cult and jots down each of the missing girls’ names in the notes app on her computer. Then, she opens up Google and searches various combinations of each name and the terms ‘injury,’ ‘head injury,’ ‘concussion,’ and so forth.

Most of the queries come up empty. All except for Kim Sooyoung, who comes back with a report on a concussion suffered when filming for a movie. It was said to be a fracture at the back of her skull, and had originally raised fears of damage to her occipital lobe, _but_ she’d ended up healing without a hitch. Three years later, she’d gone missing, a few months after getting involved with Baekhyun’s clique.

“I think the skull might be Kim Sooyoung’s. There’s an article mentioning a head injury to the back of the head. And she went missing three years after that.”

Jongdae looks at the photos again, pinching the screen to zoom in wider on the semi-healed fracture. “I mean, I can see that being three years healed, I suppose,” she murmurs. “Couldn’t really tell for sure, though. I’m not a doctor, after all.”

Minseok nods, she’ll research more on it later. For now, she grabs a paper notepad and writes down Kim Sooyoung’s name, the name of the article about her concussion, some basic info about it, and then, she has Jongdae print the photograph. She attaches it to the notepad. She’ll make a digital version of everything later, she’s just more concerned about having an actual paper trail too. That way, if she disappears, maybe Kyungsoo and Jongin will still be able to find it and bring it to the police or the public.

They continue to go through the photos, printing all of them out and recording the faces they can identify. They find all of the missing girls, eventually, though the photos do nothing except to confirm that they had been spending more and more time with Baekhyun, just as the girls’ parents had often recounted.

And after logging it all, Minseok recounts what Baekhyun had told her about Jongdae being the one. It becomes a feeling of elation for the both of them; they’re actually succeeding at what they’d set out to do, and with great ease.

“She also said you seemed interested in me,” Minseok says finally, more shyly. “Before we do any more of this flirting with her, I have to know if it was an act. Please?”

Jongdae grins, cat-like, but kind. She sets her mug down and crawls forward, settling herself in Minseok’s lap with little preamble, leaning down over Minseok’s face. Her hair falls like a curtain, making it only their little world. “It’s not an act,” Jongdae breathes quietly. “I _do_ like you. I’d like to kiss you, too,” she murmurs, tone questioning.

Minseok chews the inside of her cheek, suddenly nervous. Baekhyun—Baekhyun is captivating and domineering and powerful. Jongdae, though, Jongdae’s alluring, mysterious, and equally strong of a presence. Just a slightly different flavor.

“Please,” Minseok says, though, her voice rushing out like a whisper. As though to say it louder would be to beg.

Jongdae grins, and ducks to capture her lips in a sweet, honeyed kiss. She kisses just as fully as Baekhyun, though with less enthusiasm, more control, and less playfullness. It’s a lovely kiss, all the same, though. Jongdae makes her feel warm.

Makes her feel loved just like Baekhyun does. But like this… it almost feels real.

***

She’s with Baekhyun the next time she receives a text, but it’s not from Jongdae. It’s from Kyungsoo. A group chat actually, where Jongin’s the other member.

 **Kyungsoo:** I don’t know if you’ll read this, Minseok, but we’re worried about you. Are you all right?

Baekhyun glances over, but Minseok’s got her screen faced away from the other woman, so it’s not like she sees anything. “Who’s that?”

“A friend of mine,” Minseok says quietly, “I’ve not talked to him in a while and he got worried for whatever reason.” She knows exactly why he’s worried, but she can’t mention that to Baekhyun. “You know Jongin? This is one of his friends,” Minseok explains.

“I remember him,” Baekhyun confirms. She pauses, then, “Well, aren’t you going to text him back?” And when Minseok still makes no move to do so, instead locking her phone and putting it to the side, her gaze becomes more concerned.

She reaches across the wicker couch arm—they’re sat outside on the porch today—and lays a gentle, soothing hand on Minseok’s. “Hey, are you all right? Is there a reason you seem sadder now?”

Minseok shakes her head, “He and I had a falling out and we haven’t really resolved it. I’m not in the mood to deal with it, right now,” she says. It’s partly the truth, but in reality, she _does_ want to talk to Kyungsoo. She’s just worried that if she texts him now, it either won’t work, or it _will_ , and now that she’s close to getting actual evidence, it’ll be for nothing if he manages to get her out of this mess.

“I’m sorry, it’s always tough to have a falling out with someone,” Baekhyun empathizes, squeezing her hand. “On the bright side, at least you have me, and by extension, all of my friends. They’ve been wanting to come visit soon, and actually get to know you,” she muses, telling Minseok all about how the others have bemoaned not getting the chance ot know her yet (since her induction ritual was such a mess).

It sounds nice, except she’s sure that one of these gatherings will put her back in the same room as Yixing, and she’s not sure she can handle that sort of tension. So, she hums noncommittally, her gaze wandering in the distance, staring emptily into the woods.

Baekhyun notices, because, well, why wouldn’t she? She’s abnormally observant. Sharp, clever, witty.

“You’re really not feeling it tonight, are you?” She questions. “Is there something else you need to talk about? Unrelated to your ex-friend?” She presses, concern bleeding through her tone.

Minseok sighs, it’s been on her mind since she kissed Jongdae—when she genuinely felt loved. It’s been on her mind since Baekhyun mentioned using love as a manipulation tactic. And she’s not sure if it's just her insecurities bleeding through or if she has valid reason to question everything, but, “When you say you love me, do you mean it?”

Because Minseok’s been excusing her for all her wrongs because she’s always acted like she _does_ love her. But, if she doesn’t. If it was all a farce. It would help Minseok in the end, if that’s what it turned out to be. Maybe then, she wouldn’t feel guilty for plotting Baekhyun’s downfall.

Baekhyun tuts her tongue, her eyes sad, lips pulled into a frown, “Of course, I do?” She says in a low whisper. She seems shocked that it’s even a question. “Is this about what I said about Jongdae?” She cocks her head, squeezes Minseok’s hand again. “Jongdae is not you. I was going to love you regardless of whether or not I ended up introducing you to every side of me or not,” she mumbles. And this makes it sound like Minseok could have chosen to never discover the cult, but, because she’d expressed interest, Baekhyun had allowed her inside.

Is it her fault, then? That all of this is happening?

“Why?” Minseok asks, still confused.

“You’re captivating, dear,” Baekhyun says, grinning this time. “A little bit of a hot mess, but it’s attractive,” she continues, twirling a whisp of Minseok’s hair around her finger. “It’s cute. You’re cute. And the fact that you didn’t judge my _people_ … it made you perfect.”

But Minseok _does_ judge her people. She doesn’t agree with all of this. With the cult. She can’t agree with it. And now that Baekhyun’s saying all this, she feels worse.

Because deep down, if she’d had the chance to meet Baekhyun and fall in love with complete ignorance of what she _was_ , Minseok _would_. Baekhyun could still be Baekhyun with all of her violence, with all of her gore, and if Minseok hadn’t known about it, she’d have loved Baekhyun despite it.

But Minseok _does_ know about it, so that life, it floats on the edge of possibilities, never to be realized. A path she’d never known was an option. A path that she can never entertain without hurting herself.

And she wonders if this makes her a bad person, knowing that she’d love Baekhyun all the same.

“I need some air,” she says finally, standing up and walking off the porch without waiting for Baekhyun. And thankfully, Baekhyun doesn’t follow, though Minseok can feel her gaze searing into her back up until she’s walking into the treeline.

The woods, though, they’re peaceful right here. The deeper she gets, the more oppressive they’ll begin to feel—she knows from experience—but like this, they’re nice. They feel like the perfect mix between reality and imagination. A liminal space where nothing’s quite real, but everything feels right.

Of course, this cedes as she walks further into the woods, twigs snapping under her feet, leaves brushing against her arms. It becomes that more arcane feeling, where she _knows_ she’s being watched.

**MOURNING LOST CHANCES?**

The voice is almost expected. The barb of its tone serves to burrow her more deeply in her regrets. But she doesn’t respond to it. Why should she? It’s not like it can offer her anything of note.

**DO YOU FORGET _WHO_ I AM? **

**I AM SHE WHO GRANTS DESIRE.**

No.

She can’t even allow herself to wish it. Can’t allow herself to think it. But… it’s so attractive. The idea of having Baekhyun for only her gentle side. Of having sweet, doe-like Baekhyun. Who’s kind and funny and affectionate.

**YOU DESIRE HER?**

**HER LOVE? HER AFFECTION?**

_God_ , she does.

**I CAN GIVE YOU HER, FOR A PRICE.**

And there’s the catch. There’s always a catch. And Minseok doesn’t even want to hear the price. She’s already dug herself into a hole. She’s not going to make it deeper. “I’m not paying your price,” she says aloud, her tone low, hateful. Tears brim in her eyes. It’s so unfair that she’ll have this teased in front of her, but never get it.

Such is life.

**BUT MINSEOK, CAN’T YOU IMAGINE?**

Unbidden, images of a life with Baekhyun, where she is all candy sweet and soft, flashes in the forefront of her mind, like a movie reel, it goes through life. Through sex, through kisses, through courtship, and domesticity, and everything in between. And not once is there an appearance of the Cult. Even Baekhyun’s tattoos are gone. She is, for all intents and purposes, without any memory of the Cult or that violence associated with it.

And it’s so, so, _so_ tempting. But Minseok can’t do it. Even if she hasn’t heard the price. She can’t let herself be played like this. Chen _knows_ her desires as though they were written on her face (and perhaps they are), but she doesn’t have to let Chen win.

“I said, no,” she says again, with finality this time.

And for the first, blessed time, Chen’s presence recedes immediately.

But she doesn’t feel triumphant.

She feels empty.

***

“You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind,” Jongdae mumbles the next time they’ve gathered together, after visiting Baekhyun together a few times. Each time they visit, Jongdae makes a point to seem closer to Minseok, to seem more receptive to the still unmentioned Cult. And so far, it seems to be working.

But, while they are currently meeting together, Minseok hasn’t taken pictures of anything new. She is instead sitting down this time to record all of the things she’s witnessed. It’s not solid proof or anything, but, it’s still an eyewitness account. It might help _something_.

“I do,” Minseok murmurs, but she doesn’t tell Jongdae about Chen’s voice in the forest. Doesn’t tell her about the choice she could have made come true. She feels like it’d be a betrayal to admit that she _wants_ Baekhyun despite everything.

Jongdae purses her lips, eyebrows furrowed. “Are you going to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not,” Minseok says, sighing. “It’s not anything big, I just… it’s complicated.”

“Is it about Baekhyun?” Jongdae asks. When Minseok doesn’t answer, she puts down her laptop (she’d been researching all leads on the missing girls), and pushes it to the side. She crawls over to where Minseok’s sat on the floor and takes her laptop out of her lap, closing it and placing it off to the side too.

Then, she sits back on her calves and leans forward, cupping Minseok’s face between her hands. “Hey, let’s talk about it. You’re in love with Baekhyun, aren’t you? Despite everything she’s done.”

Minseok can’t help it. She nods.

“That’s okay,” Jongdae soothes, wiping away the tear that’s brimming in Minseok’s eye. “It’s natural. She’s been kind to you. But that doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way. It doesn’t mean she wasn’t cruel to others,” Jongdae says. “It’s okay that you love her, but you have to also recognize her violence. You have to be willing to confront that, Minseok.”

And is she willing?

She is. “I am willing to confront that, Jongdae. Why else would I still be doing this? It’d be so much easier to just play along as let her brainwash me. I think it’d even be blissful. But instead, I’m here, trying to compile evidence of the type of person she is. Trying to expose her for what kind of monster she is, in hopes that she won’t hurt anyone else.”

“And that’s noble,” Jongdae says immediately, brushing her thumbs across Minseok’s cheeks. “You’re _so, so_ noble. You’re doing the right thing even though your heart’s telling you to let it go.” She’s quiet for a few minutes and then, “You know, that’s the difference between an angel and a demon. A demon will always follow its desire. An angel can refuse it for the greater good.”

“But what if I don’t want to give it up. I just wish I could have her. I just wish she wasn’t who she was. I wish she didn’t actually believe it all. I wish she were like me, just roped in too quick, with no way to leave. But she’s not like that. She fully believes in all of this.”

“I know, I know,” Jongdae soothes. “Maybe there is a chance to have her one day. It’s not likely she’ll go down for long, even if we manage to catch her. Perhaps it’ll be a wake up call. And, if she loves you as much as she says she does, maybe… maybe you can have a future then.”

It doesn’t take away what Baekhyun’s already done, but, it is a soothing thought for Minseok. She’s not sure she’ll ever act on it, but it’s available to her. It’s something she can fantasize about, if only to bring her some sense of peace.

She shakes her head, finally, pulling away from Jongdae. But, before she can say anything, there’s a frantic knock on her door.

Her eyes widen. “Put the laptops away and make sure the folders are stuck in a drawer or something,” she hisses, scrambling to get up. Jongdae’s jumping to action immediately, grabbing the folders of paper copies and practically running them over to Minseok’s work desk. Minseok grabs the laptops and slides them under her coffee table. And then, she walks up to the door.

She thought she’d recognized that knock. Baekhyun has a distinctly weighty one, since she’s used to knocking on thicker, larger doors like the ones in her own home. And the woman does indeed stand outside, looking more frazzled than usual, and soaking wet from the rain.

Minseok swings open the door, half concerned, half nervous. Baekhyun immediately looks past her and recognizes Jongdae, but she seems unperturbed. At least, by Jongdae’s presence. She looks plenty worried on her own. “Sorry for crashing,” she says rushed, taking the door from Minseok’s hand and closing it behind her, locking it for Minseok.

“You seem nervous?” Both Jongdae and Minseok say in tandem.

“Hm?” Baekhyun murmurs, as though this is _news_ to her. “Sorry, I just had a bad experience on the street. I—I’m still a bit frazzled. I promise I’m all right, though. I’m sorry for worrying you,” she says, voice melting into that familiar sweetness. She cups Minseok’s face in hands (which feels frighteningly familiar to Jongdae’s own actions earlier) and leans in to give her a quick peck.

And then, she offers the same little kiss to Jongdae before she collapses down on the sofa. “So, are y’all just hanging out?”

Minseok nods, “We’ve been spending a lot of time together when you’re not capitalizing mine,” she jokes.

Baekhyun’s eyes glitter. “Yeah? Then maybe Jongdae would like to join us for dinner? _All_ of us.” And this has so much more meaning. This is referring to the Cult. Baekhyun’s asking if it’s time for Jongdae to join them. If it’s time to introduce her to it in full.

And Minseok wants to say _no_ , but, this is what all of this was leading up to, right?

“I’m not sure she’s ready yet,” Minseok answers cryptically. “Your crew’s a lot to handle, if I’m being honest.” She’s not got enough evidence compiled yet. She’d like for Baekhyun to leave town again sometime soon so that she can go snoop around the manor properly, without fear of being found out.

Like fate, Baekhyun offers her the perfect chance a few minutes later, when their conversation’s drifted onto safer topics. “Chanyeol and Yifan just went on a trip, and since it’s a bit longer, they wanted me to watch Toben—Chanyeol’s dog—but I just realized that I have to fly out to America tomorrow for filming,” she says, tone like she’s about to ask a favor. “If you two can? Maybe y’all can house sit, and dog sit, for me this weekend? I’m sorry if I’m imposing, I just—”

“Sure, we can,” both of them say in unison.

“I don’t work weekends,” Jongdae murmurs, “so, I’ll actually be free to laze around.”

“And I write on my own schedule,” Minseok says, keeping up with the novelist lie she’s got going on. Hell, the only reason she’s still got an apartment is because her aunt’s helping her with the rent now, and she’s just using up her cash inheritance. She’s sure if she told Baekhyun she didn’t have a stable income, that the actress would help her out—let her move in—but Minseok’s found that having the apartment has become an island in the midst of a sea of chaos.

“Oh good,” Baekhyun says sighing. She really trusts them, then, to let them both inside her house unsupervised. “I was getting desperate. Wow, I’ve had a hell of a day already. This is nice though, hanging out with you two,” she says, grinning.

Minseok rolls her eyes, but walks over to sit down next to her. Jongdae also takes a seat, looking charmed by Baekhyun’s entrance (even if it’d been a bit theatrical). Baekhyun immediately cuddles up with her, and then begins to chat about something inane. And Minseok lets her, because it’s obvious Baekhyun’s still shaken, and she’s not about to force Baekhyun to confront whatever it is that had scared her.

***

Being alone in Baekhyun’s house is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because Minseok gets to look around unhindered. A curse because when Baekhyun’s not here, the energy of the house seems to thicken and grow darker, more secretive, as though it were not only alive, but alive and set on her failure.

Jongdae will be arriving later, but for now, it is Minseok and only Minseok. And that’s appreciated, sure, but Minseok almost wishes the other woman were here to help her tear this place apart.

But, she’s not going to waste any time waiting for her. As soon as she keys herself into the house, she’s setting out to look for evidence she can use. Her first stop is back in that master bedroom closet.

She goes straight to the skull and uses her phone’s flashlight to light up the darker parts of the shelf. There’s more skulls, but at least these appear to be animals. She continues to scan it, though, just to be sure she isn’t missing anything.

Her light reveals a crack in the wood that backs the shelf, and stooped down as she is, she can’t quite see what lays behind the sliver, but she can tell that it was meant to cover up a space where there should otherwise be wall.

She lays down on her elbows and reaches forward, smoothing her fingers along the splintered wood and tugging. The back of the shelf comes free, splintering further, which is honestly problematic, since it’s going to tell Baekhyun that someone was snooping, but it’s a risk Minseok’s willing to take. _Especially_ once she sees what lies in the space she’s cleared up.

It’s jewelry— _custom_ jewelry, if Minseok were to guess—wallets, photographs, and vials. She picks up one of the bottles first, seeing as it seems to be the most out of place, and pulls it out into the light, gasping when she sees the thick red of what looks like blood. She sets the first bottle aside and grabs the others, careful not to break any of them.

“Holy _shit_ ,” she mutters, instantly taking photos of them. She probably can’t get away with taking all of them, but… she sets all but one of the bottles back in their spots, sticking the remaining one in her pocket for now. She’ll hide it somewhere else on the property if she absolutely has to in order to keep it away from Baekhyun, but she’s hoping she’ll be able to slip it into her purse and get it out of here as soon as Jongdae arrives.

Minseok returns her attention to the treasure trove of articles, and she grabs the various photographs and jewelry, pulling those out, and then the wallets.

Two of the wallets are for men and names she doesn’t recognize. Which means they obviously aren’t a part of the cult (as Minseok’s met everyone in the main body of it), but since their names don’t appear in the news from what she’s read, she’s not _quite_ sure _who_ they are and if they’re even missing.

She takes photos of both of their IDs and then flips open one of the thinner, sleeker, more expensive wallets. Ji Hyeran’s, wallet, it turns out. One of the crisp bills inside of it is stained with blood, as though it had lain in a puddle of it for a long while before being picked up and stashed.

She slips this wallet into her pocket now, though not before taking photos of it and how she had found it.

The other wallets reveal girls she doesn’t know, much like the men from earlier. Some are empty, missing all sources of identification. Others proudly display pictures, of family, or government issued IDs. It’s sad, looking at them all. The last evidences of a person.

There’s nine wallets in all, with only Ji Hyeran’s that she actually manages to recognize. That means she’s definitively connected Ji Hyeran and Kim Sooyoung to Baekhyun now. But, in contrast to the image of Sooyoung, finding Hyeran’s wallet is a much more damning piece of evidence.

And she still doesn’t know who the vials of what she’s _sure_ is blood belong to.

She picks through the jewelry last, taking photos of the pieces that look most expensive and unique, and of the pieces that look like they might have familial significance or other recognizable quality.

There’s only one thing that actually stands out to her. An oddly familiar looking ring, but she can’t place quite where she’s seen it before. She doesn’t think it’s been on Baekhyun’s finger.

It’s a gentle copper shank, twisted to look like a snake. Then, it’s got a singular, naturally shaped, but shaved down green stone in the center of the ring, with a few accents gems of the same crystal. Minseok doesn’t know her gems too well, but if she had to guess, malachite _feels_ like the right choice.

On the inside of the ring, there’s an inscription: _de mari, ego repere_. She doesn’t know enough Latin to translate it and she can’t place where it may have tickled her memory, so she shelves the thought and simply takes a picture of it.

Then, she packs everything back in the hole in the wall and stands up. Outside, thunder crashes ominously, but she pays it no heed, continuing to look around the room.

The rest of it is mundane, or, at least as mundane as a hidden closet in a cult member’s home might be. There’s vials of different oils and herbs, bundles of dried plants, animal skulls, gems, crystals, even rocks, but nothing more alarming than what she’s already found.

Again, thunder crashes overhead, this time rattling through the house, rippling along the shelves. Still, Minseok pays it no mind.

Her phone dings with a new text.

> **jd** ♡ **:** hey im going to be there soon,, this storms getting bad, do u know if baekhyun has a generator

Minseok’s sure she does, if it really does get that bad. You don’t have such a large house without a way to power it in emergencies. She replaces the mirror, glancing at its face for only a bare moment. Behind her, Chen waits, a swirling mass of shadows, that white-toothed grin practically glowing in the darkness.

Minseok’s become used to this, though, and after a brief flinch, she looks away. Chen never seems to exist corporeally _outside_ of the mirrors, at least without a summoning pulling her up into the real world.

She makes her way downstairs, milling about while she waits for Jongdae. The evidence she has, she needs to look up and confirm are missing people. And then, she needs to send it to someone. If she can, she’d like that person to be Kyungsoo or Jongin, but if she has to, she’ll go to the police outright. She just, doesn’t trust them, not when Baekhyun’s consistently evaded consequences, even with the few pieces of evidence that have made it to the station.

Jongdae opens the door maybe twenty minutes later, soaked to the bone. Lightning crashes down behind her. Thunder rumbles immediately afterwards, loud and crackling.

“That storm,” she mumbles, “it seemed to come out of _no where_ ,” Jongdae finishes, setting her purse down on the floor and unwrapping her raincoat to reveal their laptop cases. She slides Minseok’s across the counter to her.

Her ring glints in the light.

Minseok’s never noticed it before, or at least, hasn’t ever had _reason_ to take a good look at it. But all of a sudden, it’s like her eyes are opening for the first time. It’s like her first breath after being submerged underwater.

Kim Jongdae wears the exact same ring as she’d found in the mirror-closet upstairs. The exact same ring _Baekhyun_ wears. It’s a thin, copper snake ring, with those pretty green gems. She can’t check the inside of the ring, obviously, and Jongdae’s already retracting her hand before Minseok can get a good look at it.

Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice the difference in Minseok’s mood. The shift in which Minseok had become _terrified_. Because, there’s no reason Jongdae ought to share the exact same ring as the one upstairs. Of course, it all comes down to the inscription, but… it seems like too much of a coincidence.

It brings up the last time Minseok thought Jongdae’s jewelry looked familiar. The obsidian cross earrings. She _knows_ why they’d seemed familiar to her now. They are the same earrings she’d chosen as part of her induction ritual. The same earrings Baekhyun had offered up to the Chen that waited in the flames.

Minseok’s blood runs cold.

A quick Google search does nothing to reveal a ring quite like the one Jongdae wears, or like what she’d found upstairs. And Minseok could take this time to panic, but she can’t really afford that. It could all just be coincidence. Jongdae already mentioned she was interested in occult styles and the like. It could simply be that she went to the same jeweler as whoever the upstairs-ring belonged to.

She takes a deep breath; Jongdae stills appears ignorant of Minseok’s sudden revelation, which is good. She needed that.

Toben, the dog she’s meant to be watching, barks from below her kitchen stool. “I’m going to let him outside before the storm gets any worse,” she tells Jongdae, sliding off her stool. She grabs her phone and takes it out on the porch with her.

The rain _pelts_ the earth, a thick grey sheet of water that seems unstopping in its intensity. Toben, for what its worth, jumps off the porch and into the garden, but he stays nearby instead of running off into the torrent. Minseok ought to count her blessings.

She tries to call Kyungsoo. Again, it fails to work.

She wants to cry, this time trying Jongin’s number. Like with the number before it, this one also never rings.

A hand curls over her shoulder, and without thinking, she’s wheeling around with her phone brandished in hand. It connects with Jongdae’s head solidly. The woman collapses to the ground, a solid _thud_ as she hits the floor. And she may be innocent, but… Minseok’s tired of taking chances.

Minseok stares. And then, she looks at her phone again, attempting to dial Soo’s number one more time.

It goes through.

 _“Minseok?”_ Comes his voice after only two rings. _“You haven’t called or texted or—“_

“I don’t have much time,” she says quickly, interrupting him. “Oh my _god_ —“ she cuts herself off, the volume of what she’s just done finally hitting her. She’s knocked Jongdae out. Jongdae could be a member of the Cult. All of her evidence is here in Baekhyun’s house again because she’d asked Jongdae to bring it over so they could continue on it. Oh, she’s _fucked_. “I have evidence, Soo. I’ve got so much.”

_“Where are you? Minseok, you should have given up, what’s going on? Are you even safe?”_

Minseok bites her lip. She should have given up. She thought she was getting somewhere. And now, look at this. She’s back at square one, with the evidence found, but… how’s she going to get it out of here?

She stoops down and grabs Jongdae’s keys from her pocket. “I’m at Baekhyun’s. I’m going to try driving to yours. I’m going to text you the photos too,” she tells him, hanging up the phone before he can ask anymore questions.

Jongdae’s beginning to stir.

She runs back inside, no care for Toben or Jongdae. Not when she’s beginning to think this was all a set up. She shoves the folders back in her laptop case, zips it up, and then sticks it under her shirt just to make sure its safe from the downpour outside.

She pauses only a few seconds to send the entire photo album in her phone to Kyungsoo, Jongin, and then, on a whim, to Junmyeon as well. Then, she’s running out of the house, down through the rain, ignoring the way the cold sheets soak her hair and clothes, already icing her to the bone.

She unlocks Jongdae’s car and jumps into the seat, jamming the keys into the ignition. She drives the car around the circle, starts back down the drive to the main road, and then, comes to a slow stop. Her phone dings belatedly.

> **Baekhyun:** hey my flight got cancelled bc of the weather, im pulling up the drive now!!

Headlights bear through the front windshield, illuminating her in all her terror, all her frantics.

Baekhyun sits opposite her, confused, and concerned.

The other woman gets out of the car, running over to Minseok’s, still looking worried. The vial of blood and the wallet Minseok had pocketed earlier both sit on the top of the passenger seat, in plain view.

Minseok watches as Baekhyun recognizes both articles. She’s not an idiot.

Baekhyun’s face twists, first in shock, then, _betrayal_. Angry betrayal.

In the rearview mirror, Minseok can see Jongdae walking towards them, hair soaked, eyes blazing.

The driver’s door opens and a typically gentle hand wrests itself in her sopping wet shirt, dragging her out of the car.

This is Baekhyun, Woman of the Cult. Queen to _the_ Queen.

Baekhyun, with all of her violence, with all of her affection converged in one.

Minseok cries.

_***_

Minseok sits shivering on the wicker porch seating. Baekhyun’s disappeared inside, her lips twisted into a horrible frown, her eyes sharp with hatred. Even having been soaked by the rain, she doesn’t look smaller. It just makes her appear angrier, more _wild_.

She returns with a cigarette clutched in hand, and smokes it with shaking fingers, saying nothing as she stares down at Minseok. The tension’s impossible to ignore. It’s _so_ terrible like this. Minseok can feel all of Baekhyun’s hurt roll off of her.

And she wants to feel bad, but it only reminds her that Baekhyun’s biggest issue was her failure to properly deal with consequence. This is consequence, and Baekhyun will kill her to avoid it. She’s sure of it.

“Why,” Baekhyun murmurs finally. “I did nothing to you. I trusted you.”

“It doesn’t matter what you did to me,” Minseok says before glancing at Jongdae. “And didn’t you put her on me just to know what I was up to. That’s not trust.”

Baekhyun glances at Jongdae, her gaze changing infinitesimally, becoming more submissive, if Minseok were to guess. Then, she looks back at Minseok. “Jongdae does not act under my orders.”

“You could have told me she was cult. But you hid that from me. You’ve hid so much from me. That’s not trust, either.”

Baekhyun blinks, lip curling, “Clearly, I’ve hidden things for good reason. You’re a fucking _rat!_ ” She snarls, shoulders shaking with anger. Then, she rolls them back, resumes that thin layer of calm, and takes another drag of her cigarette, looking away. “Yixing and her boys were still in the city. They’re on their way.”

Cold dread settles in Minseok’s heart.

Baekhyun walks up to her, that pretty, delicate hand cups her face and directs her gaze upwards. “I could have given you the world,” Baekhyun murmurs. “Now, I can’t take the chance.”

Minseok blinks at her, lips trembling. She could try running, but she has no doubts that Baekhyun knows this property far better than she ever will. She’d break her neck in a ditch before she ever found her way out of this place alive. “I think you’re lost, Baekhyun,” is all she says. “I think you lost yourself long ago. Is any of this worth it?”

Baekhyun says nothing, even if her gaze flickers and reveals some of that rare insecurity, where she’s soft, where she’s _real_.

“What’d you ever gain from this? What power do you actually have over your life? You’re a puppet for a demon you don’t even understand.”

Baekhyun shoves her backwards, anger bleeding into her countenance once more, and she strides back inside to prepare.

Yixing arrives an hour later, her sharp gaze immediately falling to Minseok and _judging_ her. She’s so proud. So arrogant. “Well, if it isn’t the rat,” she murmurs, carding her fingers through Minseok’s hair with false affection.

Minseok shakes off her touch, and looks away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing the fear in her eyes.

The others are more reserved. Sehun, when she arrives, is the most kind. She’s also the most unwilling to actually confront the fact that Minseok’s even there. But Minseok does catch her eye, if only fleetingly, and all she sees there is fear, as though Baekhyun’s overstepped. Has made this game too personal.

Sehun disappears inside.

The only constant guard she has is Jongdae. Jongdae who has not spoken since she helped Baekhyun drag Minseok over to the porch. Jongdae, who despite being sopping wet, looks more murderous than Baekhyun. Who looks more gloating than even Yixing.

Minseok doesn’t want to talk to her, so they remain quiet.

Baekhyun reappears soon, dressed in one of those gossamer dresses from that closet. She’s got a mixture coating her hands. It looks like it could be blood, given the red smear.

She nods to Jongdae, who then drags Minseok off of the porch, uncaring of the way Minseok struggles to catch her balance going down the steps and ends up falling to her knees in the water and mud at the bottom of the stairs. She’s hauled up with little care given. And Minseok feels _numb_. Because she knows Jongdae for all her gentle touches, are her kindness. And this isn’t the Jongdae she knows.

She’s dragged through the woods all the way to the field where she’d seen Baekhyun’s first violent ritual. And it has her shaking all over again. It’s now that she notices the wicked serated knife in Yixing’s hand.

Oh, _god._

It’s at this time that all of her mistakes, all of her chances to get out while she was ahead, come flying back to her. She remembers everytime Kyungsoo and Jongin offered her an out. She remembers when Baekhyun first asked her how she felt about all of this, and how she’d lied. This _does_ scare her.

It’s so wrong.

Baekhyun yells a command up above the din of the storm, and, in front of them, the bonfire roars to life—despite the rain, despite the torrent. And it blazes, hungry and excited.

Baekhyun stands rigidly, just outside the circle that’s forming. Rarely does anyone appear imposing in the nude, but right now… Baekhyun is just that, with her gossamer gown becoming transparent in the rainfall.

Her gaze is dark, pointed. She rolls her shoulders back, tips her chin upwards proudly, and then, she’s turning around and walking forward until she’s just in front of Minseok.

She glances down at her, lips curling vainly in distaste. “You betrayed _us_ ,” she hisses.

Minseok’s heart flutters fearfully. She’d thought she could resolve herself to this, but she _wants_ to run, even if they’ll catch her, she wishes she _had_ run.

She shakes her head, opens her mouth to beg, but a hand secures itself around her head, clasping over her mouth. _Yixing_. She wiggles, desperate to free herself, but Yixing’s grip is firm.

Baekhyun steps past her, hand outstretched to curl her fingers through Minseok’s hair. She tugs brutally, unconcerned for the tears the spring to Minseok’s eyes. Yixing maneuvers her around, so that she faces the fire once more.

Minseok can see Jongdae sitting across from her, just through the flames.

Minseok bites Yixing’s hand hoping for a brief moment of freedom that she can use to run. But Yixing re-secures her grip easily, wrenching a hand in Minseok’s hair and forcing her head backwards, baring her throat, straining her neck.

Jongdae stands up, calm as day, and steps into the fire.

 _No. That’s not right._ Minseok realizes, after horror sears through her heart.

Jongdae steps _through_ the fire, walking over burning coals and splintering logs until she stands right in front of Minseok, Baekhyun, and Yixing.

She grins, mouth curling into a Cheshire grin, and her skin seems to melt away, peeling back and revealing a body so similar and yet…

She’s familiar. Minseok’s only met her once before. _Chen_.

“Now isn’t this fun?” Jongdae— _no, Chen—_ remarks, plucking at a lock of Minseok’s hair and twirling it around her finger. “I always wondered if you’d figure it out. I _mean_. I gave you _our_ book and everything. Did you ever read it?”

She did, but she never made the connection from Jongdae to _Chen_. Hot shame courses through her body. She’s a _failure._ She chokes up, shivering in the cold, weak from fear, seconds from giving up.

She hears sirens.

Baekhyun glances up, eyebrows knit confusedly. Yixing, too, looks around, and the Cult seems to lose some of their nerve, similarly turning.

Then a deep magic seems to wash over them, and they return their attention to the scene at hand. Chen, withdraws, walking back to the flames, letting them lick up her body. “Are you experiencing doubts priestess?” She calls out.

Baekhyun shakes away her nerves, seemingly forgetting what she’d just heard. Yixing levies the blade back on Minseok’s throat, pressing the sharp edge against her skin. Her heart pulses nervously. Sirens. Sirens had to mean help, _right_?

“No doubts,” Baekhyun says, voice powerful despite the storm. “Yixing, slit her throat. Make her a sacrifice for Chen.” She delivers it so calmly, so succinctly.

Yixing drags the knife across her throat at the same time as they’re washed in the light of headlights. One pair, then, two, three, four, and more.

Minseok gasps against the blood that pours down her neck, wiggling against Yixing’s grip. She’s dropped forwards, head spinning, but heart gradually slowing down into some sense of security. She sees red and blue now. Lights. Police lights. Her blood soaks into the ground.

Chen crouches down and reaches out of the fire, dragging her fingers through the crimson. And then, she melts away, _gone_.

Baekhyun’s left in her place, eyes wide, shocked, scared.

Minseok’s out in the next breath, vision darkening into nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The phrase "de mari, ego repere" _ought_ to translate to "from the sea, I crawl," but my Latin's rusty and I honestly can't tell you if that's exactly how the cases translate out. It's a reference to some primordial mythos that consider chaos a sea, and the agent of chaos, a snake! 
> 
> Snakes also have a sense of continuum to them, which is why they're symbolic for Baekhyun and her Cult. There is an eternity where the snake is always swallowing its tail—a circular balance, an eternal trap.


	4. Epilogue

_“Are you sure you’re doing all right with her getting out this early?”_ Kyungsoo says over the phone. _“Do you want to stay at mine for a while? Did you ever get that restraining order? Minseok, are you still with me?”_

“I’m still with you,” she murmurs. She’s sat on the floor, _Duxit Mahemium_ laid open in front of her. She thought that with Baekhyun’s arrest and Jongdae’s mysterious disappearance, that Chen might be gone as well.

Unfortunately, that’s not true. She can feel the demon now, crawling about in the shadows of her home. “I think I’ll be fine, Kyungsoo. She can’t do anything to me.”

 _“She can if she has nothing to lose,”_ Kyungsoo argues. And he’s right, but Baekhyun _does_ have a lot to lose still. She’s still got piles of money. She’s still got her estate, still has Yifan and the rest of the Cult, despite everything. She’ll probably still get a chance to act, too.

After all, the Courts absolved her of any foul play in the disappearances and Minseok’s attack as well. She’d gone in for some menial charge in the end. Money always talks. _Status_ always talks.

“She has plenty to lose,” Minseok murmurs placatingly, “I’ll call if I need anything, I promise.” And then, she says her goodbyes and hangs up.

**DO YOU THINK SHE’S COMING?**

Chen’s less terrifying now that Minseok understands her better. Minseok _had_ been her pandemonium. The panic of being caught and exposed… she’s sure the madness fed Chen well. Chen’s violent, but more than that, she’s chaos, plain and simple—whether that is the chaos of death, or the chaos of life.

“I know she is,” Minseok says quietly. “It’d be uncharacteristic for her not to.” So, she gets up and goes to fix some tea for Baekhyun’s arrival.

Which _does_ come, some minutes later, when the tea is just beginning to cool, in the form of a heavy knock on the door. Baekhyun has never been one for subtlety.

“You know my code, come inside,” she calls out. There’s a few seconds of silence, then Baekhyun does as asked and lets herself in.

She’s thinner now, her eyes and cheeks more hollow, her eyes darker, more wild. Her hair’s still long, but it’s rougher now, stringier, more knotted. She doesn’t appear to have taken her time away well.

**PRETTY PRIESTESS, WELCOME HOME**

Comes that voiceless taunt. Baekhyun blinks, flinching at the sound, and looks around.

“She’s not _here_ here,” Minseok soothes. “Come sit. I can’t promise she won’t cause trouble though.”

Baekhyun sits, but she’s out of place, shifting in her seat, gaze flickering around the room, but never resting on Minseok. But Minseok doesn’t put her at ease, not now, not for a while yet. Let Baekhyun be nervous. Let the tables turn. She really shouldn’t have even come here.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not,” Minseok shuts down, easily, though her own anxiety brews at the back of her mind. “Try again.”

Baekhyun glances at her, gaze wide, shocked. “I was wrong to do what I did.”

“If you thought it was wrong you’d have accepted the consequences for your actions. But you paid your way out of it, and even now, your fans continue to campaign that you were innocent all along,” Minseok states again, still calm, still relaxed despite everything.

Baekhyun bites the inside of her cheek. “You’re right.” And that’s the first thing she’s meant since she’s walked in. “You’re right. I’m not… I don’t regret what I’ve done. Not all of it.”

“You regret what got you caught.”

“Perhaps,” Baekhyun says. “Perhaps a little more than that.”

“It’s not really fair that you get to regret killing people, but the people you killed remain in their graves,” Minseok says, again, eyes hard.

Baekhyun shrugs, “Life isn’t fair.” And as quickly as she’d arrived, she stands up. “I shouldn’t have come here. I don’t know what I expected.”

“You expected forgiveness. Maybe even affection. You loved me, didn’t you,” Minseok asks, because she _has_ to know.

Baekhyun says nothing for a moment. “I loved you,” she says finally. Baekhyun loved her, and brought her to the mayhem anyways. “Enough that I wished I’d never gotten involved in any of that.” She’s talking about the Cult. “Enough that I dreamed about what it’d be like without that.”

Chen’s offer _still_ floats around Minseok’s head. A possibility she’d never taken.

**DO YOU WANT IT?**

Chen asks, quietly, speaking only to Minseok. Baekhyun can’t even hear her, if the way she starts walking towards the door is any indication.

 _God_ , she _does_ want it.

**THEN, LET’S TRY AGAIN, SHALL WE?**

The door shuts behind Baekhyun and Chen’s presence disappears.

Her phone suddenly goes off, alerting at the usual time it would back when she worked for Junmyeon.

She snoozes the alarm, staring at it, then her eyes widen. The date… it’s not.

She calls Kyungsoo.

 _“Are you going to be on time today or do I need to tell Junmyeon you’re going to be late?”_ Kyungsoo answers the phone.

No.

She hangs up without ever greeting him, pressing her hands to her head.

Oh. Oh, _no_.

She could just sit here, quit now, and never have a reason to chase Baekhyun again. But… she misses it.

Briefly, as she gets dressed for work, she wonders what Chen’s price had been. It’s not until she’s walking into the office, though, that she understands.

The memory’s the price. The knowledge of what Baekhyun is. Because even if she repeats all of this and never gives Baekhyun up, never joins the Cult, she’ll always know what she is.

That’s going to poison her soul forever. Unless she chooses to do it all over the same, again.

Minseok’s always been selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You made it to the end! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing! Please let me know what you thought via comments or kudos, I'd love to hear what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, if you enjoyed reading, please do let me know via a comment, kudo, or even send me a tweet! You can find me on my [writing twitter](https://twitter.com/sophluorescent) OR my [personal twitter!](https://twitter.com/syzygybbh)
> 
> Want to share head-canons or are too shy to leave a comment, i have a [curiouscat](https://t.co/KYC8gCVmPh?amp=1) !


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